


Captive

by Supermoi



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Carrying cycles, Consensual Sex, Dark Energon, M/M, Mating rights, Mech Preg, Mpreg, Plague caused by Dark Energon, Post-Apocalyptic settings, Ratchet being Ratchet, Torrorcons, Traditional mating in order to claim a captive, Zombiecons Apocalypse, barbarian au, courting, dub-con, sparkling, unwilling partner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-08 06:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supermoi/pseuds/Supermoi
Summary: When Ratchet is taken captive by the Barbarian Decepticons that now occupy the wilds of a Plague ravaged Cybertron, what would his fate turns out to be? Would he become lost, or would he return to his brethren that inhabits the fortified City of Iacon? -Barbarian AU, set in TF Prime, with some G1 thrown in- RATED M FOR ADULT THEMES! Soundwave/Ratchet(Main), BD/KO Meg/SS (background)





	1. Captured

**Author's Note:**

> This is a RP between myself and a pal from Wattpadd. I hope you all like it!

Captive  
TF Prime Barbarian AU RP

 

Chapter one: captured

 

Ratchet crouched, lips pressed into a thin line as he trailed along beside the trundling carriage; the two zaphorses snorting softly as they struggled against its weight. It was a regular delivery. They did this bi-monthly and even still, Ratchet couldn't help but nervously flick his gaze around, trying to keep a sharp optic out for any danger. 

Of course, that was what Bluestreak was for, the young gunner seated atop the carriage along with Percy, the two mechs sighting down their snipers for any signs of trouble. And Ironhide and Kup took up rear positions, with Jazz on the other side of the carriage, keeping up with it along with Ratchet. With all of the medical supplies they were carrying, there was no room inside for any of them to travel in the carriage. 

Ever since Event Zero*, as it was called, Iacon had a shaky truce with Kalis. Although the meteor shower that changed, well, everything, had been on the other side of the planet its aftershocks had been felt across their world. With Kaon, Blaster City, and cities all the way to Nova Cronum infected, energon production was severly limited. Iacon had never had its own source; it always traded with other cities for energy. And the impact of the meteors had shifted tectonic plates, severly damaging underground piping.

In short? Iacon no longer had a means of easily acquiring energon. Kalis, however, had always been its major supplier. And was still able to produce clean, uncontaminated energon. So instead of Iacon pumping directly from them there was an uneasy trade between them: every month they would alternate. First part of the month Kalis would send over gallons of energon in 'coptors. In exchange, Iacon would use part of that energon to run its factories and produce medical supplies and munitions. Usually these, too, were flown over, but-- but the aerialbots were currently recovering after a run in with a pack of barbarians that also happened to have fliers with them. 

Losing shipments to nomads or, worse, terrorcons wasnt unheard of; when energon supplies were running low fliers couldnt make it out either for the trades and theyd need to be done by foot then, too. So it wasnt a wonder why using the caravans wasnt so common. Not any more at least. But they couldn't at least try. Failing to do so would no doubt anger the other city and Iacon needed that energon to feed its citizens perhaps more than Kalis needed a steady stream of medicine. So here they were. Optics and audios alert with strung out nerves. 

They were two days out from Iacon now and it'd be at least another three until they reached Kalis. Their group hadnt stopped once to rest, too fearful of the beings that might be out there, waiting for them. Instead the warriors alternated resting on one of the poor zaphorses. It'd be a miracle if the beasts didnt keel over by the time they made it to the other city....

It was another day and a half before the attack to the caravan occurred. The trap had been carefully laid on the path of the caravan, on a patch of terrain that barren, flat and held absolutely no way for the City Autobots to take advantage in a fight. They sprang out of holes carefully hidden in the rough tyerrain, belowing and swarming with sheer brute strenght and number.

They were Barbarians, those mechs who, after the cataclysm, had fled the cities to avoid getting infected by the Plague and became nomads. They usually lived off the scraps they could find from the very ground, but it was far from enough, and because of that their number had always stayed small and widely spread throughout the entire planet in small tribes. They were mistrusted and feared by the Ci9ty Autobots, who despised those mechs that had chosen to turn to such a savage lifestyle rather then hold onto their Civilized nature. Most were from the southern Hemisphere and were warbuilds, Decepticons that they were called. They were warriors, fighters at spark, and usually twice as large as the average Autobot.

They had gotten good at laying traps to ambush and rob caravans on their journey between cities and today was no different. Maybe two dozens of large war frames sprung into action from all around the caravan, hollering, screaming and charging the caravan with all their might to overwhelm and quickly defeat them. They held crude but effective hand-to-hand combat weapons like axes, swords and flails and were wickedly effective at using them. They outnumbered the Autobots three to one, and had a policy of taking no prisonners. 

Usually that is.

Today however, would be different. From above came the rumbling noise of jet engines and three sleek forms appeared from above, dropping cluster bombs on the caravan to scatter and them and spread panic. One of them, the blue one, spotted something that caught his optics. One of the mechs had the markings of a medic on his frame. The Barbarians Decepticons didn't have medics, they in fact severely lack of them, and capturing one would bring Thundercracker great honor amongst his tribe. So he set on cornering the red and white mech and capturing him without harming him. Which was usually an easy task, since the City Autobots were complacent and soft in the spark and metal flesh. 

He transformed to root mode and wrapped his arms around his prey, taking him into the air and knocking him in the head to offline him temporarily...

The thing about snipers, was that they were only any good at a distance. 

Their travelling group was twitchy, on edge. Going several days without adequate recharge would do that to a bot, but even still, there was something...off...about their journey now. A prickling sensaion across their sensor net that made them jumpier and more tense than even before. 

Bots had always wondered how the nomads managed to get the jump on them. Afterall, they never left survivors so it wasnt as if there was anyone to ask. But they didnt have guns, or anyway to really recharge their guns if they managed to steal any from the caravans. Not to mention the mostly flat, open topography of their planet. 

So when the metal burst open in front of them and bots came spilling out of the ground, well- The zaphorses whinnied and bucked back, their hindquarters bumping into the carriage and knocking off Bluestreak and Perceptor from the roof. Ratchet heard one of their guns go off, but he couldn't be bothered to look and see if it was accidental or not; his servo transformed into a strut saw which he swung at his first assailant.

It was a medical tool, but it did its job of slicing through the mechs chest. Ratchet chanced a look over his shoulder towards Ironhide and Kup, watching the two veterans valiantly fighting off the attackers. Iacon had sent some of its best warriors, but it wasnt enough. They never knew how the nomads operated; to see just how many bots they used to attack? It was merciless. Ratchet swallowed, knowing he was likely going to die right along with his friends

With a savage snarl he used his blade to cut through the zaphorses reins, letting the beats run free. If he was going to die he wasnt going to make it easy for these mechs to lug their things back to wherever their camp was. 

Then he dove forward, spitting curses at the bombs! Where did they even manage to get those?! His servo transformed back as he instinctively raised hsi servos over his helm, as if that could possible save him from getting blown up. When he managed to glance up, he spotted the trio of fliers and just barely had the time to wonder if these were the ones whom had harmed the aerialbots before he realized one of them was coming /right for him/!

"The frag-?!" He managed, and tried to jump out of the way. Claws bit into side paneling and he snarled in his attempt to mask the cry of pain he wished to hide. His attempt to dodge had claws hooking into him, rather than wrapping harmlessly around plating and he was jerked painfully off his pedes. Ratchet swung around, struggling in the others hold and managed to get a good jab into the blue mechs side- but immediately stiffened in the fliers grip when he realized just how far up he now was. Oh, Primus. This sicko was going to drop him on his helm, let him crash into the planet; what a miserable way to go! 

Least he wouldnt come back a terrorcon though, he supposed. 

Instead of dropping him though the other adjusted his grip and Ratchet-- 

He jerked awake, frame jolting upward as battle systems whirred to life. Blue optics flickered online after his wrist blades were already out, the medic wincing at the ache in his helm. Where was he? What was going on?

 

There was a shuffle from nearby and the little amount of light that came from a open doorway - more like the round opening of a metalmesh tent - was cut by a large form that now was shadowed against the sun's light. A winged, large, threatening form with glinting red optics... Then the seeker walked in and the sensation of imminent threat diminished. He was tall, at least twice the Autobot's size, sleek and definitely handsome, if you like the feral, fierce way warbuilds look. He had blue and white plating's, with red markings on his wigs, legs and arms. His optics were exotically slanted and his face was thin, long and aristocratically sharp and smooth. He had paused seeing that his 'guest' was awake, and spoke in a voice that rumbled like distant thunder.

 

"Ah, you are awake. Good. I feared I might had hit too hard when I offlined you... How are you feeling?" 

 

Even his voice sounded aristocratic and culturedl, and yet, this was a Barbarian Seeker! The Decepticons markings on his wings and the tribal markings on his faceplates were unmistakable! Yet he spoke in a concerned voice that could have belonged in the Golden Halls of Iacon! He sounded genuinely concerned and... there was an feral, dangerous undertone to his words too. Like some slumbering beast just ready to pounce at any time.

 

He walked over to him, carrying a small container make of recycled and reshaped metal, looking quite basic and handmade. Liquid was sloshing inside though, and the seeker knelt at the side of the berth to help the City Autobot sit up and held the container out to him. 

 

"Here, drink this. It'll make the nausea go away. Its fresh Energon, believe me. From a natural underground source." 

 

The liquid was indeed clear, pure and glowing blue and looked delicious, so fresh it sparkled. And very tempting to the parched medic, whom hit on the head must have made a bit pained.

 

White and red plating bristled, lifting up off the medic's frame in a subconscious attempt to make himself look bigger as he finally registerd the imposing figure in the, erm, doorway? 

Not that Ratchet was all too concerned about vocabulary at the moment. As the other took a step inside a growl escaped the city mech and he brought his blades up; "Back off." His voice was hoarse and gruff. But despite his attempts to seem tough and unaffected, the medic's fear was overwhelmingly obvious as Ratchet's gaze kept darting around in a desperate attempt to find an escape or the way his plating jittered nervously. 

The closer the blue mech got, the more stiff Ratchet became, until the medic swung his legs over the side of the berth; if he was going to be attacked or something, he wasn't going to sit here feebly like some coward! "Where are my friends?" He bites out, completely ignoring the others question as to his health.

How was he feeling?

Like a trapped animal, tense and afraid and ready to snap at this threat. He even bares his denta menacingly when the other /still/ approaches, despite the clear warnings to back off. Probably because the mech was smart enough to know Ratchet wasn't /actually/ going to do anything.

Oh, he wanted to. He wanted to slash the grin right off the mechs face. But he wasn't stupid. If he managed to kill this barbarian what would be waiting for him outside the tent? The rest of the tribe no doubt. What one mech planned to do to him would be much easier to navigate and defend himself from than rushing out of here and having a whole angry tribe after him. 

So when the nomad touches him, Ratchet flinches away, but doesn't attack and even allows his blades to transform back into servos. He still keeps his distance though, plating slicked flat to keep it away from unwanted claws. And he optics the energon warily, mouth twisting into a grimace. "...Where are my friends?" he repeats, not taking the energon, servos clenching into fists in his lap. "Where am I?"

Thundercracker finally stop and, with a deep sigh, carefully put the container of energon on a nearby fat surface so it wouldn't be wasted. He then turns to face de medic and his red optics are narrowed to slits in his handsome face. The towering, slender Barbarian Decepticon looks very strong and powerful, as if he could break the smaller city bot with one hand and would certainly have no problems restraining him. But for now he doesn't and rather look at his captive with a flamme in his optics that looks both curious, hard and... hungry, maybe? WHile looking at him, whish s not very reassuring...

"You won't be harmed, Medic." He finally says, ignoring the question for now, and his arms cross over his chest in a irritated gesture. "We have a great need of your kind, and your capture will bring me great honor."

His statement in accompanied with a large fanged smile and red optics that burns brighter with pride and what could be seen as smugness, arrogance even. Even before the Plague, the Seekers were known to be highly prideful and arrogant creature looking down at the ground bound Cybertronian with disdain and sneer. The fact that they were the fastest, most agile and graceful flyers on the planet made this arrogance kind of well earned too. They were the masters of the sky and they knew it. When Vos became infected by the Plague after a meteor hit it directly, many of them flew from the air, the only place where Terrorcons wouldn't follow, and formed their own tribes. They rarely mingle with the ground bound Barbarians, and had their own Tribes, rules and social hierarchy, though sometimes they allied with ground tribes for raids and pillage of Caravans. 

"Your friends had been left to fend for themselves, as is the law of the wild, Nedic! You will not concern youself with their fates, for you are mine and I stake a claim to you as my prized captive!" 

 

The words were harsh and the optics locked on him even more so, smile still large but now the threat and dark promise in it was clear as day. There was another shuffle outside the door and the metalmesh flap of the tent was pushed aside so another seeker could walk inside. This one was dark purple and black, and looked younger and a bit smaller then his blue counterpart. 

"Brother, our Winglord wants to talk to you." His optics darts briefly to the medic with a glint of interest and a disturbing smirk. "About your medic prisoner."

Thundercracker never let his optics leave the medic, staring him down hard and cold, threatening and hungry, in a disturbing way. He answer the smaller dark seeker with a feral hiss underlying his words, to make his point clear as crystals. 

"You can tell Starscream that I will be there shortly. I have to secure the captive first!"

And the way he said 'captive' sounded like he meant a lot more then that. The seeker was looming over the medic's small form and his red optics were burning bright in his faceplates. The smaller seeker left with a nod and a last longing look to the red and white ground bound medic, leaving the two alone again.

"Makes no mistake, Medic. You are mine, and I will stake my claim on you. But first..." He takes the container of energon back and say firmly. "Drink."

A shudder ripples through the older mech; the kind of shudder one gets when they feel like they're being watched, but have no way to prove it. The way this seeker was staring at him...It made Ratchet's tanks twist themselves with dread. If there was any other way to pull himself further from the flier without tumbling off the edge of the berth, he would have. 

"That's not very reassuring," he says blandly, glaring at the other from the corner of his optics. Again, he was trying to put up a tougher front than he felt, not wanting this mech to see him as completely weak. He knew the nomads thought of city mechs as useless and fragile and he didn't want the other to get any ideas that Ratchet would just accept...whatever this was, without some sort of fight. He might not be able to kill the seeker, but he'd make whatever the others goal was for him as difficult as possible. 

And it wasn't like he believed the other wouldn't hurt him. Not with the disturbing way he was being stared at. Like some kind of prize, or pet. It made him bristle. And then he actually does bristle as the other continues, Ratchet's blue optics going wide as he stares at the other in horrified shock.

'Stake a claim'? What in the frag does that mean?! Before he can demand further answers though, the tentflap rustles and another seeker comes in. Finally, Ratchet has enough and practically throws himself off the side of the berth to get away from the blue mechs imposing presence and bares his denta defiantly at both mecha. "And, what?" he finally spits, "you think I will willingly lend you my services? Get smelted." What were they going to do, toss him in some medical tent and expect he'd actually want to help them? How did they think they were going to force his cooperation in such delicate matters? 

Once the other seeker leaves, Ratchet stares down the blue one, helm tipped up defiantly; arrogantly. With reflexes one might not expect from a bot so old and clunky, he snatches the cube of energon from the bigger mech and retreats again, staying well out of the others striking distance. Ratchet's not an idiot, and with his earlier dread building in his tank he understands with perfect clarity what /this/ mech, in particular, expects from him. 

Although he'd woken up rather hungry, all trace of that is gone and is instead replaced with a sudden urge to throw up. He even considers tossing the energon at the mechs face, but 1.) it'd be a waste and 2.) he was in no position to make the other angry. Even still he doesn't drink, just holds onto the cup tightly. "Stick your spike anywhere near me and I'll rip it off," he finally growls. His earlier observation still stands; he knew he couldn't kill this mech. Not with others outside and expecting his presence. But Ratchet wasn't going to just allow himself to be raped, or be treated like a piece or scrap. Like a prize to be won, rather than as a mech.

At this point, the seeker seemed to lose patience and took a few threatening steps towards his captive. He was a towering monster of a mech with large dangerous fangs, claws that could tear into the hardest metal, and fierce yet dangerously intelligent optics that locked on their 'prey' with disturbing intensity and focus. In two quick steps he was on the smaller mech and grabbed him by the throat, but not too hard, just threatening and poking the metal skin with sharp claw tips. He lifted him slightly and locked burning red gaze on him, a low hiss escaping his vocalizer.

"You are my prize, Autobot! I will stake my claim on you before another try to steal you away!" He snarled in his faceplates and seemed a lot more threatening all of a sudden.

Seekers were thought to have stronger feral instincts then the usual Decepticon, and acted almost animal-like on occasion. Like now, as the seeker was puffing and flaring his plating to appear larger and more intimidating, hissing low and threatening, a subsonic growl emanating from his engines. That close, he could see the cruisscross of scars and botched repairs littering the frame, that repair nanites had been able to take care of. One large clawed servo pressed to his groin and cupped the panel there very possessively, making his intentions clear as day.

"You are MINE! I will not let Starscream, or any other, steal you away! Mine! And you WILL submit, Autobot weakling!"

The servo on his throat tightened a little bit and he was pressed hard against the wall behind him, the large frame of the seeker trapping him there, anuble to move much. And claws were digging in the seams of his panel and looking for the release switch to open it manually...

Without thinking, Ratchet tosses the energon at the blue mech, anyway, and allows one servo to transform back into a blade. The seeker is fast, faster than Ratchet's reflexes, and the medic hisses as he's grabbed by the throat. But he doesn't give up, give in, and jabs his blade upwards, into the underside of the glass of the mechs cockpit. He doesn't pierce the armor there, knowing quite well that the mechs spark casing should be just behind the glass, but the threat was still there. All he needed to do was add enough force and he'd pierce dangerously close to the mechs life force.

This close the seeker could also see the minute details of his victims face; the lines around Ratchet's mouth and optics, indicatng his older age. And the spark of defiance, and hate, that burned his optics an icy, piercing blue. 

"So much for not hurting me," he rasps mockingly, lips peeled back in disgust and he digs the tip of his blade further into the others armor. "I know your tribe is out there," he says, eerily calm, "So killing you would be incredibly disasterous to my health. But I have no intention of meekly allowing you to rape me-" his vents hitch when the feels the others claws grope his panel, and he ruthlessly presses his legs closed, trapping the servo there, knowing what the other was searching for. Ratchet's expression darkens and he jerks his arm down, letting the blade cut down the seekers abdomen- slicing through the top layer of armor- to rest the point of the blade over his panels, "Mutilating your groin won't kill you, though." 

"I don't know what sick kind of culture you've got out here, but Im a mech not a possession!" He hisses, "And I'll just as happily stab your stupid tribesmembers who think they can touch me without my consent!" He also knows that he has no way to survive on his own. He can't kill this mech, he also needs more time to plan an escape, needs to figure out where he is and how to get home without starving or being killed by terrorcons. So he pokes harder into the others groin with his blade, twisting it, "You want me to, I can pretend you fragged me. But Im not going to let you just do it."

Thundercracker freeze when he feels the sharp pain of the blade so close to his spark and his hand tightens minutely around the medic's throat in reaction, but not enough to hurt... yet. His red optics narrows and they are locked in a staring match with Ratchet's blade pressing down on his panel threatening to wreck his interface equipment, and his own claws threatening to tear the mech's throat cabling with a twitch. 

And it last for some times, the seeker unflinching, red optics unblinking and fierce, and then, after a moment, a very long and tense moment, he burst out laughing and release his hold on Ratchet, taking a step back to give him some breathing space. His optics are stioll oddly cold and calculating, but are also twinkling with amusement and... is it pride there as well? For the medic, no less? There seem to be. Thundercracker doesn,t seem to mind the shallow cut along his abdomen and the glass of his cockpit that is slightly cracker along the path of the weapon. 

"You are a worthy prize indeed! I chose well!" He said with a large grin and add, mirthful. "I will claim you... eventually. But not until you beg me for it, and believe me, you will! I will not force you again. You have my word." 

He wipes the energon that still covers his faceplates with a cloth he took out of subspace and then, seriousness returning to his expression and stature, points towards the entrance of the tent. 

"Starscream and the others will be waiting to see you and acknowledge my claim to you. You do not have to pretend. Making a claim doesn't automatically means fragging. I will fight anyone who would try to take you away."

He took the medic's arm, and pulled him along out of the tent. Outside, the setting sun was bathing everything in reddish hues and he could see that they were settled on a high plateau surrounded by mountains. Maybe a dozen more tents were scattered about, with the largest one being in the middle and guarded by two large seekers with energon axes. The smells, sounds and bustling activities of a lively, strong community could be heard and the screams and giggles of two very young sparklings could be heard from within the largest tents.

Ratchet remains unblinking, unflinching as the pair have a battle of wills. Ratchet isn't afraid to die; he doesnt /want/ to, hence his hesitance to cause a true disruption, but if dying meant keeping his dignity then so be it. It wasn't as if it were all pride, either. This mech was huge, and powerful. Any forced...intimacy between them would be painful, and damaging. So a quick death versus a life of such torment? He'd allow his throat to be torn out before he let that happen.

As soon as the other lets him go, Ratchet slides away, using the space between them to get his back off the wall so as not to be cornered again. He keeps his blade out for a moment, opticking the barbarian warily. He can't help the sneer that passes across his face that the others words though; 'I will never want you,' he thinks to himself dismissively. How can the other feel so confident about that? /Why/ would he ever think Ratchet would want him, after the threat he'd just inflicted upon the older mech?

Nor does Ratchet trust his promise to not try and force him again. His promise to not hurt him had been rather flimsy as well; or did the seeker think he would have enjoyed having his panel forced open, and all that would have come after?

But he chooses not to say anything, too wary and afraid of inciting another outburst of anger from the other mech. Push came to shove, he'd kill the other but that would be signing his own death sentence and as he'd said, he wasn't quite ready to die yet. So he just grunts and allows his blade to transform away once again. He cups his servos in front of himself, his digits lacing together in a feeble attempt to steady their shaking. 

'If you don't need to frag to claim someone, why the earlier insistence?' He can't help but wonder, his expression clouding over angrily at that admission. 'Because he doesn't see you as a mech. Easiest way to claim an object is to break it first,' his processor spit poisonously inside his helm. He almost flinches again when the mech moves to grab him again, but this time Ratchet refrains himself, and resignedly allows the flier to lead him outside the tent. If nothing else, this is Ratchet's opportunity to get an idea of the camps layout and to see how big it is. 

When they exit though, he takes a sharp invent. Just where the frag are they?!

-TBC-


	2. Settling in

Chapter two: Settling in

 

The camp isn't as big as he would have thought given the number that had attacked the caravan. Perhaps a lot of mechs shared tents? What worried him the most was the location though. Glancing around as they walked, Ratchet pointedly ignored the stares tossed his way, and realized that the land they were walking on didnt have any crystal growths and in every direction there were sheer drops where the rest of the landscape should be. They were high up, which meant trecherous footpaths would be his only route, if he were even lucky enough for that. 

The earlier sick feeling was coming back and he nearly stopped when he felt his tanks clench. He wanted to purge, and placed a servo over his abdomen as if that could calm the bought of nausea. Thankfully there was nothing in his tanks for him to purge, though. 

The blue mechs grip (wow, still didn't know his captors name, he realized), led him over to the largest of the tents. The two guards stared at them skeptically, but knew Thundercracker was meant to be there with his captive, so even though it was odd the medic was not bound they parted the tent flaps without comment. 

Inside, the tent was bustling with activity. The center of the tribe, it was where most social business was conducted and where its two leaders, Starscream and Megatron, presided. They had their own personal tents, of course, but only ever used them at night or when they were migrating. The walls were decorated with hanging rugs, and designs were stitched into the very fabric of the walls themselves. The center of the roof had a large flap that could be opened or closed; at the moment it was open, allowing the smoke of the fire in the middle of the tent to drift upwards. There was a small dias, in which two mechs were seated: a rather grumpy looking red, blue, and white seeker and an intimidating silver warrior. Near them, two sparklings burbled at each other and were beign watched over by an intimidating blue and black mech, with an orange face.

There were a coupel of other bots inside as well, like the seeekr from before, who were chatting off to the side. But as soon as they entered an eerie hush fell over the space and the tri-colored seeker sat up straighter in his chair. Ratchet may or may not have shrunk against the attention, his arm jerking out of the blue seekers hold. 

"Thundercracker," he purred, eyeing the pair neutrally. His brother had never been the troublesome type; that was Skywarps job. So when Thundercracker had decided to take one of the city mechs as a mate it certainyl caused a stir. On one servo: yes, he was a medic. A vitally important tool their tribe needed and bonding him would ensure the other could never run away. But on the other...he was old! And a weakling! It made it difficult for them to decide what to do about the situation which of course meant he and Megatron had argued about it, until Starscream finally snapped they could wait and make up their mind when the medic actually woke up. Hence, the here and now. 

"I thought you'd be here a bit...later. When Skywarp said you'd still yet to claim the medic-" he trails off meaningfully, noting the lack of paint transfers or mingling of their scents. Which added another layer of complication to things. Skywarp hadnt been shy in his interest in the medic either. Ground pounder he may be, mating the only fully trained medic their tribe may have would be a huge political manuever. Piss the medic or his mate off and suffer pain a bit longer, the next time you were injured...

Which is when he notes the others damage against his front. Before he can say anything though, the ground pounder dared to speak up! "Consider me claimed. I am so ravished, I could barely stand it," he drawls, arms crossed over his chassis.

Megatron's red optics settles on him and a big optic ridge lift slowly, as a crooked half amirk grace his lips. He looks between the two of them, and notice the way Thundercracker stands very still, wings tense and expression cold and hard. He's not happy, this much is obvious, and that means that a 'traditional' claiming hadn't taken place yet... and seeing the wounds on his front he can guess why. There's even a deep cut directly on his panel and that means he had meant the business end of a blade.

'Feisty medic, he will make a good mate.' The old warlord thinks as his smirk grow and finally, after a moment more of staring at them, he finally speaks out loud.

"Are you now? Mmm but why is Thundercracker so tense and are you so quick to make that claim?" His optics lock on the large blue seeker and he add, sounding rather amused and pleased himself. "What can you say about this, Thundercracker? Have you staked your claim on your little Autobot Medic? If he's still unclaimed in the traditional way, you can expect challenge to his rights, you very well know."

The blue seeker - Thundercracker, obviously - tense even more at those words and lower his gaze under his Lord's intense scrutiny for but a moment, but it's enough to confirm Megatron's suspicions. He clech his fists when there are chuckles and catcalls through the room, everyone had already guessed by his looks, wounds and tenseness that he hadn't taken his captive yet... And while it's not strictly necessary upon the first day after the capture that he claims him, he knows, very well knows, that he must do so in the next lunar cycle, or anyone could then come and try and take him away from him, issuing a traditional Challenge to the Right of Possession!

 

"I am aware my Lord, but I do not enjoy forcefully taking a mate... I will court him properly and claim him within the Lunar Cycle, I swear it!" He says, incensed and determined at the same time, optics boring hard on his small prize that stands at his side. "He will be fully mine by the end of the Lunar Cycle."

The spot where the two tiny sparklings were being watched by their large blue and black guardian with the orange faceplates was the only one that was still noisy in the tent, and no one was paying attention to the rambuntious sparklings playing. Breakdown was watching the scene with the Medic and Thundercracker intensely and for but a moment took his eyes away from the two playful little ones, which caused one of them - a tiny red and blue and black bundle with pointy audio receptors - to wander towards the open fire pit. Dangerously close even. 

Primus, this was embaressing! Starscream stared at his brother, face still carefully neutral but optics glinting hard. His and Megatron's mating had been strictly...political, in nature. Fliers were powerful and useful, but flying cost more energon than driving. And hunting around o nthe ground could be rather inconvienient for the seekers. They could do it, but, well-- So Starscream had negotiated a deal with Megatrons' tribe: Starscream led the seekers but Megatron would have ultimate authority overall. In exchange for their air auperiority- and to help the tribe reach locations such as this one- Megatrons hunters would provide them all the energon they'd need to fly freely.

 

This made their relationship a bit tense, though, so Starscream hated when his seekers shamed him. The fact Thundercracker couldn't control an unruly city mech was embaressing. His claim to be unwilling to take the medic without force was clearly a farce, if his wounds were anything to go by. 

The medics clear look of disgust confirms it, even before Megatron speaks. 

Ratchet's discomfort is just as obvious as Thundercracker's, but for vastly different reasons. So then what happened...wasn't just because of him? Forcing yourself on a mech was /normal/ around here?! He'd thought, perhaps, it was because he wasa city mech and this 'Thundercracker' hadnt respected him. His grey face paled slightly in realization, but when Megatron speaks he is quick to interject; "If interfacing is all it takes to claim a mech around here, you're all too late on that front." He says it glibly, like its no big deal, but honestly he doesnt know if it is or not. If his being intimate in the past is something that can possibly deter Thundercracker's interest, then he was willing to throw it out there. Pride be damned!

Starscream leans back in his chair, just barely tempering his urge to face-palm. "Yes, well, if you're going to court him...it might be a good idea to /explain/ to him how things work around here first, hm?" He flicks blue claws towards Thundercracker, expression irritated, "I can't imagine city mechs function similarly to us. Or was his attacking you not indicative of that?"

A few more hoots of laughter at Thundercracker's expense and while the blue mech is getting annoyed, Ratchet is downright angry. He glares right back at Thundercracker from the corner of his optics, his face red with fury. "And if I don't want anybody?" He snaps viciously into the chuckles, causing some of them to taper off. "You want a medic, fine. I know I can't really escape...but I'm not a piece of slag to be flaunted around and fought over." 

There's a tension now, and Starscream leans forward, wings taught along his back, and he opens his mouth, ready to snap right back at the others ignorance and insolence-

Only for the medic to suddenly move. Starscream stands, battle systems whirring to life. Except, the medic isn't coming at him. In fact, he dove forward, practically sprawling into the ground--then there's a wail from a scared sparkling.

It takes a moment to process what he was seeing, but...the city mech is curled around Knockout and Breakdowns wailing sparkling, the left half of his frame scorched from the licks of the flame. He staggers up and away from the fire, shrugging off the burns as he's already checking over the bitlet for damage. 

"Slag!" Breakdown curses, up and at 'em as he immediately goes over to check over his sparkling, expression full of guilt, shame, and fear. "Tracks, shh its all right, sire's here-" Knock out was going to kill him. If Starscream and Megatron didn't, at least, since he was watching their bitlet too. Fraaag he was so lucky it hadn't been Sunstorm who had crawled over there!

Satisfied the bitlet isn't hurt, Ratchet forfeits the sparkling to its creator, his own expression a little dazed. He'd just acted on instinct when he suddenly saw that bitlet heading for the fire and no one else seemed to notice. But, oh, look. The paint on his arm was kind of bubbled up from the fire. It...okay, yeah, no that hurt and he exploded a wave of cursing.

The room had suddenly fallen even more silent, every optics on the medic, and for a long moment, there was no sounds but wailing sparklings, whispered cooing from a worried Sire, and the cursing of one pissed off medic. Little Sunstorm, startled by the sudden commotion, had crawled to its carrier's pedes and was wailing as well, clawing to climb into his Carrier safe and warm lap. The tine gold and orange seekerling was the only thing moving for a while, as well as Breakdown gently rocking his own bitlet. That was finally broken by a red and white sleek ground model mech bursting through the front entrance and dashing towards his mate and sparkling.

 

"Breakdown!" He bellowed in anger narrowing his optics at the larger Decepticon with a intense glare. "What in the fragging PIT happened?! I felt Track's terror!" 

That seemed to break the spell that had fallen over the assembled mechs and Megatron, who had risen along his mate when the medic moved, settled his attention back on the cussing mech, clearing his vocaliser loudly.

"Please, Autobot, there are innocent audios in listening range!" He scolded first as his mate had finally cradled little Sunstorm into his lap. 

There was a pause as the large Decepticon Barbarian looked the small medic up and down, pondering and scrutinizing. As savage and ruthless as he was said to be, Megatron was also clever and wickedly intelligent. With one swift gesture the Autobot medic, by risking his life to save one of their own, had proved himself worthy to be integrated into the Tribe. Without needing to mate to anyone as seemed to be his which. That was... unexpected, but not unprecedented. From the shadow, a sleek, dark form slid over to the dais and settled at Megatron's left elbow, visored face unreadable. 

"Soundwave." Megatron finally said, his optics never leaving the medic as he finally stopped cursing - to Knockout's utter relief as he was starting to glare daggers at the City Autobot. "It will be noted that the Autobot Medic Ratchet had, on this day, proven himself worthy of being included to this Tribe by saving one of our owns life. And Medic, I personally thank you for safeguarding the life of one of our too rare sparklings. You have our gratitude."

Thundercracker was also watching his captive - but could he still be called that now? - with thoughtful optics. There was also a glint of pride and a flash of lust in them but it was quickly overcome by a wide and proud smile. He had chosen well in catching this one. Old he may be but he had already pro9ved himself capable! 

"Megatron is right." Said and blue seeker with a crooked smile, all tension having left his frame. "I should have explained things to you before making any stupid moves. Things, as you may have already guessed, are widely different here in the wilds. You City Bots are sheltered, in comparison, and it was easy to assume that a quick and easy claim was within my reach... However, now, it's not necessary but... If you allow it, and after I explain all that you should want to know to you, I would still want to court you and makes you my mate. You are more than worthy."

Almost immediately, Starscream swooped down and picked up his wailing sparkling from the floor. He doesn't even process the fact that it very easily could have been his own bitlet that could have been in that situation. It all happened so fast he was still left a little reeling and confused and was only sort of absently patting Sunstorm's back. 

In the meantime, Ratchet bit his glossa to stem the flow of curses and through the pain, reached into his subspace to pull out his jumpbag which contained some emergency supplies. He knew the tribe must have the medical equipment stolen from the caravan, but he wasn't going to ask them for any of that. He'd use his own stash, just in case asking for help somehow indebted him to them or something, no matter the fact it hadn't originally been there. 

"I'm sorry!" Breakdown whined, knowing this was absolutely his fault and knowing there was no way out of it. He might have been much larger than his fiery mate, but he still cowed under Knockouts anger. "I just...I only took my optics off them for one second!" His own end of the bond filled with his own terror at what had almost happened, and his guilt. 

With the hub-bub all basically taken care of, Ratchet was content to tend to his injuries on his own. He didn't pause in his practiced, clinical motions, even when Megatron spoke up though he did glance at the other from the corner of his optic. His expression didn't really change- one, because he was still in a lot of pain and two, he honestly didn't understand what the frag was going on. Being called 'Autobot Medic,' however, was kind of getting annoying so he did manage to bite out, "Ratchet. My name is Ratchet."

Soundwave's helm tips in acknowledgement, the tribes scout master/mechanimal handler recording the entire event for posterity. 

"I-" This was a lot to take in, in one day. He still hasnt had the chance to properly grieve for his friends, whom he knows to be dead. Thundercracker said they'd been left to fend for themselves but he knows that to be a lie; his friends would have fought to the death to defend both their cargo, and himself once they realized he'd been taken. And he'd gone from...well, he still didnt totally understand what he was to these mechs, both before or after the sparklings rescue. 

He finishes cleaning and wrapping the burns on his arm and stands, medical bag now held in his good servo; "Where am I to stay then?" He asks, completely ignoring Thundercracker and almost recoiling from the mechs eager advances. Finally, Starscream speaks up again, "It would have to be with an unmated mech regardless; we don't have a spare tent for you and there wouldn't be enough room with the families." He holds Sunstorm closer then flicks a claw out over the assembled tribe, "Thundercracker is offering his tent to you, but if anyone else would like to offer...?" 

Ratchet doesn't look happy about his prospects, but the side glare he casts Thundercracker makes his opinion on the other quite clear: he didn't want to be any bots mate, but he especially unimpressed with the blue mech at the moment.

At Ratchet's clear rejection of him, Thundercracker's wings droop and he really look like a kicked puppy right at that moment. His shoulders slumps and he looks smaller and deflated in a way. Which is a bit funny considering the feral and wickedly dangerous appearances of the large seeker. But he doesn't raise a protest, feeling ashamed and stung, his pride wounded, and he would have to lick it better later. But he'll try again... He was sure his prized medic - Ratchet - would open up to his advances soon enough.

Another mech doesn't seem to have such reservation though and Skywarp, the purple and black seeker from earlier, younger brother of Thundercracker and Starscream, step forward.

"As an unmated mech myself, I offer my tent to Ratchet. He can stay with me if he so wished." He said in a tone that was both a official offer and a clear challenge to his older brother. "Since he doesn't seem to which to stay with our older brother. A shame really."

Knockout watched between the two of them for a moment before seemingly making a decision for himself to defuse the tension he could feel was building. At Skywarp's words, Thundercracker's wings had bolted back up and spread wide in anger and a low hiss was escaping his vocaliser. There was obvious bad energon between the brothers and this little incident was just adding oil to the fire. So Knockout, being the unofficial Tribe's Healer, chose to bend the rules a little in order to keep the peace.

"If I may my Lord?" He asks taking a step forward, Tracks still cradled to his chest. "Ratchet can stay with us. He can also be tasked of looking over the sparklings and making sure they are alright and up to date on their antiviral and immune patches. I know it is unusual, but we do have a spare berth in our tent."

Megatron was surprised by the Healer's intervention, and he pondered the request for a moment, his optics going from a fuming Thundercracker, a smug looking Skywarp and a calm yet worried Knockout. After a moment he nodded and said in a commending, final tone.

"Very well, Knockout. This is unusual, but I will grant it. However, I will also encourage those unmated that would wish it to propose a courting to our guest." 

Thundercracker shot his younger brother a triumphant smirk and Skywarp bristled at being refused, leaving in a stomping huff while Thundercracker felt his hope return. That could be interesting... 

There isnt even a hint of remorse on the medics face when Thundercracker slumps, his expression remaining stoney...Actually, no, that was too nice. It was downright hostile. The fact that the seeker- Thundercracker- had tried to violently force himself on him just so that he could skip the courting phase of their bizzare mating rituals was repulsive. Actually, he still found the fact that such an act would have been acceptable by the other tribesmembers repulsive as well, but now that Ratchet- apparently?- had the choice to not take a mate at all, he was insulted Thundercracker thought he could try and weasel in a courting ritual /now./

 

When another seeker, the black one from before, steps forward, Ratchet casts a helpless look around the large tent. "I'd...rather not-" he starts, remembering the lecherous way Skywarp had stared at him for the brief moment he'd been in Thundercracker's tent. Why did he have to share with an unmated mech again? He didn't want to have to worry about the idea of fending off yet /another/ unwanted suitor which would no doubt ruin any chance of him being able to recharge anyway. No matter what Megatron said, Ratchet didn't trust ANY of these mechs to keep their paws off him. Not after the terrible image Thundercracker had painted the tribe in the medics mind. 

Knockouts offer surprised quite a few mechs, Ratchet included. The red sports model was the first bot to receive something other than a glare from the city mech-- the older bot looking relieved and grateful. "Of course I'll look at the sparklings. Are there more besides these two?" he asks. Angry though he may be, he would never take it out on any bitlets. And he needed to fit in, for now. He'd said he'd be their medic and so he would. He'd learn their movements. Learn how they got on and off the plateau. Then he'd steal what he could and he'd escape. So long as he could fend off his suitors, at any rate; the red and white mech groaning when Megatron offered for bots to try and court him.

Noooo! He didn't want to be bothered with this! But, he didnt protest it. So long as it was clear that he wasn't going to be /forced/ to be anyone's mate and could deny the suitors, then fine. He could fend off the younger mechs. 

"Yes," Starscream finally answer his question from before. "Sunstorm and Tracks are, currently, the only sparklings. Though we believe another may be on its way," and he gestures towards a pair of Decepticons in the back. "However, you need not worry about that at this second. Go, rest. I wouldn't want you examining anyone with your burns still fresh," he says, not unkindly.

Ratchet steps closer to the bonded pair, looking a little unsure now that he no longer bristling and on the defensive. "I...thanks-"

"No, I should be thanking you," Breakdown says. "You saved our sparkling. I don't know what I'd do with myself if something happened to him-" he vented, coming up beside Knockout. "I'm Breakdown, by the way. Come on, love, let's show him our place then. Looks like he could use a breather."

"Yes, please," Ratchet vents softly, only loud enough for the pair to hear. Once the bonded couple helps escort him out of the meeting tent, the anger and blazing hatred that had been fuelling the medic inside is visibly replaced by the earlier fear and a sense of...weariness. The old bot looks it; tired and run down. 

"You okay, mech?" Breakdown asks as they lead him towards their personal tent

"....Not really, no. I'd just like to lay down," he admits. 

Breakdown shares a look with his mate. "Yeah, sure. And when you wake up, we can tell you a bit more about the tribe," he offers.

Knockout is dotting over their little sparkling whom had by now completely forgotten the incident - bless them for being such carefree little angels - and was cooing, clicking and giggling in his Carrier's arms. The blue, red and black little one with the red faceplates is such a adorable bundle of joy, its hard staying angry or afraid in his vicinity. He brightens everything! Knockout adores him and the vain, self-centered mech had changed a lot since the arrival of this little miracle. He's still mad at his mate for being careless and almost getting him killed, but he would get over it. 

But tonight Breakdown isn't getting any! That is for sure! That blundering big oaf... But Tracks is alright and had forgotten all about his near death experience so all is fine... until he gets his claws on his mate that is. Knockout takes over where Breakdown left it and says, sounding quite tired and worn himself, but also proud. 

"I act as the Tribe's Healer. I have basic medical training, but I'm far from being a certified medic... I can't deal with illnesses or serious infections and injuries as well as I would like to. You'll see that our tent also dub as a small dispensary for the Tribe's need. It's yours to use of course..."

As he left the tent, Ratchet may have noticed an intense gaze following him, and a faceless faceplate following his movements with intense interest as he leave with his two hosts. Soundwave isn't usually the kind to feel any attraction, or anything at all really, for others. He's loyal to a fault, honorable and deeply professional in all of his tasks. He's also a natural telepath, level 5, the most powerful that exists. All of his functions he had felt and heard others emotions and thoughts, ever since he was brought online as a highly advanced communication expert. He never was a sparkling... He was brought online an adult already trained and ready for his functions as Senator Ratbat's comm expert/spy/assassin.

But what hadn't been expected was for his spark, that was brought up from Vector Sigma to inhabit this frame, to develop such a unique Sigma Ability. Telepaths had always been extremely rare, and there had only been 5 recorded in all of Cybertyron's very long history. So for Soundwave, the most guarded and secretive of mechs, to feel any kind of interest in anyone besides his Lord and Master, was very surprising... even to himself!

But as he watches the Autobot Medic leave, something stir in his spark that he had never felt before. A longing that he can't explain. It feels... good. He wants to explore this feeling that centers around the new City Bot and the interest he stirred in his emotionless, cold circuits and heavily guarded spark.

-TBC-


	3. The Morning After

Chapter Three: The Morning After

Even though Ratchet is tired and not completely on top of his game, he still manages to smile as he watches Tracks. The downside to their kind living so long meant that kindling was incredibly difficult. The balance had been necessary before Event Zero, otherwise overpopulation would have been even more of an issue than it already had been. But ever since the catastrophic event, their populations have been dwindling. Given the energon crisis they still face, however, Ratchet supposed low fertility rates weren't entirely bad either. Wouldn't want the bitlets to starve...

He's so distracted that he does not, in fact, notice the silent mechs staring. Whether Ratchet's selfless act touched Soundwave in some way, or the mech just had a weird frame fetish, who knew? Certainly not Ratchet who had barely even noticed the others presence beyond Megatron calling attention to him the once. Then again, Soundwave is a spymaster; he wasn't meant to be noticed.

So Ratchet blithely followed after the mated pair, just happy to get away from all the eager optics of the mechs gathered in the big tent. They'd all probably just been there to see how that would turn out; no matter where you went in the world the gossip mill would be strong. Ratchet learned that while still in the Academy and even the apocalypse couldn't change that.

"Hm, so I assume the medical supplies that were stolen would be in your tent too, then?" He asks, perhaps a little more sharply than he'd meant. Still. His friends had died for those materials. He was allowed to be a little bitter at least, he thought.

"Ah, well...sort of," Breakdown says a little hesitantly, since there really was no other way to try and answer that in a way that would lessen the blow. "It's more like, our personal tent is attached to the dispensary. Knockout is in charge of any medical issues so he deals with those supplies. But everything else, I mete out. Well, Barricade too; he and I are the quartermasters." 

Ratchet nods his helm, but doesn't bother saying anything else. When they arrive, the second largest tent he has seen so far is butted up against a much more modest one. Breakdown holds open the flap for his mate and creation to enter first, then nods for Ratchet to follow suit. Venting softly to himself, he does so, and blinks as he takes in the space. It's similar to Thundercracker's tent shape wise, if not a little bigger. Made of stitched mechanimal hides like all the others. Although Knockout and Breakdown's tent had a screen propped up in the back, which unbeknownst to the medic at the moment, was where Tracks' crib was to give the two parents some sense of privacy.

The domed surface of the tents made shelving impossible, but there were handmade dressers and crates for their supplies and he could see what he assumed to be their berth close to the divider in the back. 

"Hang on, let me get your berth set up," Breakdown says, moving towards the back. Though he pauses as he passes by Knockout and gives his mate a little apologetic kiss on the cheek, hoping the fact they had a guest over meant his mate wouldn't tear into him too badly later. Then he hustles over to one of the larger crates and snaps it open, and from inside, pulls out a collapsible berth. Huh. Ratchet hadn't been expecting that. Why they had it, he didn't know, and supposed he could ask later. But all he really cared about right then was getting some rest. He'd only been awake, what, about 20 minutes now? But it still felt like it'd been a whole day since he got any rest. And being knocked out from a blow to the helm wasn't exactly 'resting' either. 

Once the berth was all set up beside the trunk-- several feet away from KO and BD's own berth-- Breakdown got Ratchet a few blankets as well. "Um, well, all right. All set," he said, awkwardly, moving out of the way so Ratchet could lay down.

"Thanks," the medic said, feeling a bit uncomfortable as well. Now that he thought about it, were they just going to like, watch him sleep? That would be weird. But, he laid down and tried to position himself so his back would be to them while also not laying on his burnt arm. Scrap that still hurt...

Breakdown pretended not to see the way the older mechs shoulders hunched as he pulled the blanket over his helm or the way said blanket trembled slightly as Ratchet finally let his grief over, well, everything get to him

Knockout wisely chose to leave the older mech alone and went to take care of his sparkling that was cooing and clicking softly in his arms by now. He chuckled and caressed a round cheek lovingly, thinking how everything they had to suffer to have this little miracle was worth it a thousand times over. Knockout had a terribly hard time during the carrying period, being small with narrow hips and a lithe frame. It almost finished him, the strain on both his frame and spark, but when he got to hold his newly sparked creation, every pain and hardship was all forgotten. 

Track was his whole life and he wouldn't hesitate a second to protect him, and his beloved mate, with his own life. SO that night, after making sure ratchet had fallen into a deep recharge out of exhaustion, he did tear into his mate a bit, but not as much as Breakdown might have feared. And in the morning, when the first rays of the sun started to pour inside the tent through the flap and the opening on the roof, they were curled together in their own berth and sound asleep. 

Outside, Soundwave was already up and about taking care of the mechanimals and seeing to the new arrivals. The three zaphorses were still mostly wild and he had his work cut out for him taming and socializing them. At his feet, his own pet, a Cyberpanther called Ravage, rubbed against his lower legs and purred loudly, the sleek black creature demanding attention from her master. Close by perched on a fence's plank Laserbeak squawked and took off, only to land on his master's shoulder and look down warily at ravage. 

Soundwave sent waves of calmess/reassurance to his pets through the faint bond they shared and both settled after a few moments, Ravage curled on a patch of shadows and yawned widely then proceeded to lick a paw, losing interest in anything else. Laserbeak stayed on Soundwave's shoulder but relaxed considerably and was content to just stay put there observing his master work on the zaphorses. As he was working, Soundwave's mind wandered to the previous day,l and the way the medic threw himself almost into the fire pit to save Tracks. That had... shaken him somehow. City Bots weren't supposed to act so honorably, or selflessly, but this one... struck him as different.

When you get as old and jaded as Ratchet, crying oneself to sleep is old-hat. Learning how to cry silently so as not to wake up patients in your ward or even just to avoid worrying your friends in the other room while crying in the washracks was an art that Ratchet had also quickly perfected in his youth. The Academy had been tough and life had only gotten tougher since then.

So when he next woke again he still wasn't feeling particularly well rested, but was at least somewhat better. One night wouldn't be enough to overcome his grief, but now that he'd gotten the worst of his emotions under wraps he could hide the rest of his pain in order to function in the tribe. 

By the time he woke up the rest of the tribe was already awake and bustling, the nomads getting up with Cybertrons weak sun to get as much work done as possible with the natural light; they didn't have the luxury of electric lights like the remaining cities and could only rely on fires for artificial light when the sun disappeared. As it was, the sun was still only just peeking over the skyline when Ratchet onlined from the noise of the activity.

He yawned and stretched, wincing when he thoughtlessly tried to move his injured arm. When he sat up and looked around, at first neither of his hosts could be found. Unsurprising if they were already up and working, but- what was he expected to do without some sort of guidance? He'd also been promised some basic explanations--

Breakdown came inside just then, pausing when he saw Ratchet was up. "Oh!" he gasps, then ducks his helm back outside to call out, "Knockout! You busy? Ratchet's awake." Then he fully enters and approaches; "Sorry mech. You were sleeping a long time though and Knockout and I had things to do. But, I'm sure Barricade can handle things on his own for a while, if you want me to answer some questions now."

"I'd like that, yes. But, ah," Ratchet curls his good servo over his stomach, "I haven't eaten since...before whenever I was captured. Could I-?"

Before Ratchet can even finish, Breakdown is gesturing to one of the many drawers in the tent. "Energon is in the rust-red drawers over there. We need to carefully ration everything though, I hope you understand so...just one cube for now until we can re-distribute some things for you," he explains. Which, fair enough. Rationing was something they did in the cities as well, but the nomads had even less access to reliable fuel. So having to suddenly feed even just one more mech than usual could easily become a burden. 

While Ratchet gets himself something to eat he asks, "So...I'll admit, I don't really understand what happened yesterday. Or, what's going to be expected of me," figuring those were good places to start for explanations.

Knockout chose that moment to walk inside, wiping his hands on a clothe as they seemed to be covered in black oil stains. As if he'd been working on either machinery or repairing an injured tribe's member. Whichever it was, the younger mech had already been quite busy and he was carrying Tracks in a carrier slung over his chest carefully, letting the sparkling move about but preventing him from wandering away while his Carrier worked. The carrier was made of mechanimal hide and the leather cords were masterfully woven and tied into night unbreakable knots for better security. 

Upon seeing Ratchet up and about he smiled and walked up to them while Tracks, in his carrier, was clicking and cooing away happily. The little sparkling seemed to have no side effexts at all of his little accident the previous day and was as bubbly and happy as any sparkling should be. Knockout shushed him and gave him a small cup with a tiny hole opening at the top for the sparkling to feed with, which he did with eager clicks and buzz. 

"Ah, Ratchet, I'm glad to see you up and about. Everyone had been up for at least two hours. The sun is high already, and we need to start packing." He said cheerily and tilted his head, one hand resting on the carrier's back holding the wiggly sparkling inside still as he drank. "We are leaving this plateau within the next week."

Watching Ratchet carefully while he spoke, he could see the slight, well hidden tension at the corner of the old medic's mouth and optics, the tenseness of the frame and the tiredness in his optics. He could tell he was hidding his grief over his friends... but couldn't tell he felt any regret for killing the City Autobots in the first place. After the apocalypse struck, the resources one could get on Cybertron had gotten scarce and highly fought over, and the ones who could get to them and hold into those rare energy and energon sources were the ones that would survive. Killing had become a way to survive. With so few ressources available, the fewer population there was on Cybertron ti fight over them, the better.

It was harsh, but it was true, and as Nomads, the Decepticons Barbarians found a way to always find new resources and new energon deposits. Stealing from the City Autobots caravans was not their most important source of goods... but it does happen and they weren't apologetic about surviving, even on the corpses of others. But of course, the Healer wasn't going to tell any of this to the grieving medic. Instead, he smiled and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"In order to first get energon and a place to live for yourself, you will have to prove your worth to the Tribe. As a medic, first, since it's your main function, but also by being capable of carrying out any tasks and chores that our lifestyle demands. I am not aware of how things work in the Cities, but here, you must prove that you are valuable to the Tribe, or you will be cast out and exiled to the Wilds, to fend for yourself. It's a very simple way of life, but it had works for a very long time. In a word, you must earn your keep, and you won't be given energon if you don't do something to deserve it."

For now Breakdown allows Ratchet to drink from their rations since really, did they expect the mech to be able to earn his first few meals? But yes, what Knockout said was true.

As he listened, Ratchet managed to grab a container out of the indicated drawer and pops he sealed top to drink. Though he nearly chokes on the energon when Knockout enters and speaks. A week?! The older mech immediately tenses at this news. That wasn't any time at all to try and plan an escape!

He flinches away when Knockout approaches, not exactly open to the idea of foreign mechs touching him, even for comfort. Not after Thundercracker. It was true that it was easier with Breakdown and Knockout, but he still didn't entirely trust the nomads even if they were bonded. And he just...didn't want any of them touching him, anyway. "And where are we going?" He finally manages to ask, gaze warily flicking between the two mechs. 

Breakdown isn't an idiot though and just sighs and runs a servo over the back of his helm; "Mech...you're part of the tribe now. I mean, if you want to leave I guess technically you could, but...what's the point?" When Ratchet turns angry, hurt optics on him, Breakdown is very quick to add, "I mean, you leave, we aren't going to give you supplies. Think you can live long enough to make it to a city? Think your city 'friends' are going to take you back, once you've been travelling alone in the wastelands? They won't trust you haven't been bitten..." They certainly didn't care to give any of the nomads a chance, so-

"So then it shouldn't matter to you to tell me where we're going then," Ratchet gruffs, trying not to get too upset with his hosts but unable to completely squash his irritation. If he could make it back to /Iacon/ then surely they'd let him back in. 

But Breakdown just purses his lips and side-eyes his mate. "Anyway...you want us to take you to someone, show you how to weave or something? I dont think you'd make a good hunter or scout so some sort of domestic work will suit you, when you're not fulfilling your role as medic." 

"I can watch the infants," he says pointedly, just to make Breakdown flinch. It was a low blow, but the stormy expression on the medics face shows exactly what he thinks of the others refusal to answer him, and perhaps even of the idea of 'domestic' work. Honestly Ratchet wouldnt mind that. But he's reminded, again, of the lecherous way he had been stared at the night before and nothing says 'good, stay at home carrier' like weaving, or whatever. 

Breakdown vents and moves to leave the tent; "Knockout, love, I can take Tracks to the dispensary. If you want to show Ratchet where he'll mainly be working with you, or someone willing to teach him."

Knockout looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he transfer Track, carrier and all, to Breakdown who secure the infant to his chest with few quick efficient moves. Tracks giggles and coos through the whole process and the curl against his Sire's chestplates contentedly, peeping at the strange new mech with wide red optics. He exclaims loudly and reach a grabby hand towards him suddenly as if something clicked in his immature processor and he looks eager to properly be 'introduced'. Knockout laugh and motion to Ratchet to come closer, see if Tracks likes him at least.

"He's a bit picky when it comes to his caretakers. He can also get grumpy and irritable when we're not close by for a while. But if he likes you, it'll be like a breeze looking over him." The Healer grins and takes the tiny sparkling carefully out of his carrier. He hold him to his chest carefully and let Ratchet have his first good view of him since yesterday. "He's well behaved and usually easy to entertain and to watch over. What happened yesterday was kind of a fluke, really... he doesn't do that usually."

He just let the two of them get acquainted for a little bit, and smiles fondly. The little one is barely a Lunar Cycle old. All brand new to the world. It sometimes pains him that they have brought life to such a dangerous, horror filled world... but he's worth it all. He's the center of their lives and the cement of their bond, whom was already uncommonly strong and deep. Breakdown and Knockout had always been an item, even since before the Plague. They were in Praxus when the asteroids hit the city... and they barely got away with their lives! Luckily they made it and are now a happy, loving family with a sparkling to care for, born from their sparks and CNA alike. 

"Is there anything you are good at? Are are more interested in learning. One of our artisan can take you as an Apprentice. We have WeaponSmith, tannery, Weaving, MechAnimal Handling if it's your thing, and cooking and energon preparation and storage are also a must. Any of these could suits you."

He then hands Tracks back to his mate and let him leave for the Dispensary, then face Ratchet again, serious and arms crossed over his red chest. 

"This is not a suggestion. You must make yourself useful to the Tribe. Watching the infants is a good start, but is not enough. Follow me and I'll show you around so you can make up your mind."

Breakdown patiently waits for his mate to make a decision. Honestly after his screw up yesterday he isnt expecting Knockout to let him take their creation, so his pout immediately disappears when his lover begins to untie the carrier from around his chest to bring their bitlet to him. He kisses Knockout as the other ties the carrier around him instead. Since the tribe was getting ready to move, he and Barricade were working hard not only distributing weekly supplies to mechs, but also trying to pack up their supplies as well to get them ready. 

At least that meant it'd be easy to keep Tracks strapped to his chest and thus easy to keep an optic on. 

Still, even though he's busy he stands still and allows Ratchet to approach to really meet their creation. "I think most sparklings are like that," Ratchet says lightly, smiling as he holds out his digits for Tracks to grasp and with it what he would. Even though his other arm is still incredibly sore, he moves it away from the curled up position he's been keeping it against his chest to gently 'boop' under the bitlets chin. He croons and chirps right back to Tracks, nodding his helm very seriously as if he could fully understand what the sparkling was saying. Obviously he couldnt it was just nonsense noises, but encouraging babbling was good for language development. The more one engaged with a sparkling the faster they developed mentally.  
When Breakdown made his excuses to leave and get back to work, Ratchet gently withdrew his servos from the young bot. When Knockout speaks he immediately has Ratchet's attention, the older bot humming as he honestly gives it some thought. Hes still panicking a bit over the thought that they'd be moving, but...maybe that was actually a good thing? The fliers would help him and the others down off the plateau and then he'd have good, solid ground under his pedes where he could transform and drive away. Not exactly a solid plan at the moment but he'd have enough time, hopefully, to figure out how to steal the needed supplies to run away and survive. 

Until then he'd play along, of course.

Ratchet turns to Knockout and carefully flexes his damaged servo; and immediately winces as the motion cracks some of the bubbled paint and armor, a new smattering of energon discoloring the bandages he'd wrapped over his servo and arm. "Well...before the plague, the only thing I ever did was be a doctor. I was a surgeon and general practiotioner; always busy. Didnt have much time for...hobbies. Or other skills." He shrugged; so no, nothing else he was really any good at. "Mind showing me the medical tent first? Then I'll look around, promise. I figured with such a small group, truly tragic or life threatening events arent as common as, say, scrapes or illness. So I'll need something else to keep me busy anyway. Something familiar, and comforting, would be a nice place to start..."

Knockout nods, and lead him outside and through the group of tents. There was activity and noise everywhere. Everyone was busy doing something, and there was a lively bustle of all kinds of activities. The closest to them was of course the Dispensary which was just next door, and Knockout started there. The tent was one of the largest and inside were several cots and the scent of incense and disinfectant was strong. At the moment there were no patients, and the place was empty but very tidy. They didn't have scanners and other specialized medical equipment, but they had a fair amount of tools and medications. 

"As you may have guessed, we rarely have severe injuries or critical illnesses. The worst you'd see is the Cyber Flu, mild rust infections, sometimes nunting wounds or - and it's the rarest - a victim from the Infected... For those, we kill them as soon as we figure out what it is. Which is usually very quickly." He said bit grimly and his optics darkened. It was obvious he had been faced with this a couple times at least. The Infected turned so quickly, all you could do was end their suffering right away.

After the dispensary he led him back outside and they started up towards another work area, this one set with hammer, anvils and metalwork tools. The Weaponsmith, a bulky, taciturn and grim looking mech, saw them coming and looked at them with what looked like a perpetually grumpy expression. 

"This is Onslaught, our Weapon Master, and a expert weaponsmith. He and his gestalt are one of our best fighting unit and hunters. The other four are on a hunting expedition, and should return sometimes tomorrow."

In the shadows, at the back of the nearest tent, something big and black moved and yellow optics peered at the newcomer, the Cyberpanther sniffing the air warily. Ravage didn't like new mechs. SHe was wary of everyone but her Master, and she mistrusted strangers even more. She stayed hidden and stalked the new mech throughout the morning...

And, of course, Breakdown was inside the dispensory as well with a medium sized black and white mech that also had four red optics. Barricade, presumably. The front half of the tent was where all the medical supplies were. But in the back was where the tribes communal supplies were kept as well. Whatever fuel the hunters and gatherers managed to find and bring back were kept here. Or, when times were tough, some of the mechaurochs, petrorabbits, or tinfoil-turkeys were slaughtered to beef up the stores. 

Ratchet's face scrunched up at the scent of incense; no doubt used to mask the smell of sickness or decay whenever there were injured to take care of. He didnt see any burning at the moment; must be seeped into the tent fibers. He also recognized a few of the crates from the caravan and quickly turned his helm away.

"Right. Well, without anesthesia or at least painkillers I dont know how youd expect me to handle more serious injuries? I mean in surgery someone can just as easily die of shock," he sighs. "I can re-attach limbs, go inside a bot and replace parts as delicate as a t-cog. But, chance of survival goes down the more complicated something is and they're not passed out," even if just from them wriggling around alone. "But, uh....if you've got the required materials I can do it. And teach you as well, I suppose."

He doesnt comment, but his mouth becomes thin and grim at the mention of the infected, and he nods his helm. Hes only too aware of that solution as well. 

He follows Knockout outside and greets the sullen looking mech pleasantly enough. Like last night he ges a few odd looks from mechs, but isnt stopped or harassed, at least. He should probably ask how courtship works around here just so he doesnt accidentally trap himself by unknowingly accepting a proposal or something, but they're so busy walking the camp and introducing Ratchet to bots that he never gets a chance. 

Finally as they're leaving the glassblower and, oddly enough, metallurgist's hut Ratchet finally notices their tail. At first, he doesnt say anything, curious. None of the other tribesmembers seem perturbed by the presence of a fragging /cybercougar,/ even though others can clearly see it. He follows Knockout to a few more places, but most of his attention is now on the giant cat slinking along after them. And, yeah. Its definitely following them. Maybe a beastformer, then, rather than a mere mechanimal? It would explain why no one seems bothered by its presence though not why they're being followed.

Finally, before they reach one of the last destinations for the day-- and PRIMUS he didn't realize how big the plateau was!-- Ratchet pivots on his heel and looks directly at the giant panther. "Well?" he demands, servos on hips as he takes a few steps towards the being. "What are you following us around for?"

Ravage stops and crouch low on the ground, ears flattened back on her triangular head as she let out a threatening hiss and a growl, armor puffed out to look more intimidating and baring a impressive amount of sharp teeth. She stays like that and just stare at him in silence for a long moment, red slanted optics narrowed in what look like a wary expression on the Beastformer. It is Knockout that breaks the uneasy, tense moment as he step next to ratchet.

"This is Ravage, She is one of Soundwave's pet. He's our mechanimal Handler. That was going to be out last stop for the day anyway, he works a bit outside the village." Knockout explains as he watches Ravage pace back and forth her red eyes never leaving them. "WHy dont you return to your Master, Ravage? You do not have to follow us around like this. Its unsettling and you know it."

The only answer that he gets to THAT is a hiss and a grumpy huff from the sleek black cyberpanther, and then she inches a bit closer, her red eyes locked on Ratchet. He can feel a nudge at his mind, and a faint stream of primal emotions. It's coming from the Beastformer, obviously and she seems to be thinking about something. She retreats and seems to relax a bit as if she's satisfied with whatever she found. With a last look, she start trotting towards the direction they were heading for and disappear behind a few boulders. Ahead they could hear zaphorses whining and hooves hitting ground in a agitated manner. And here he was, SOundwave, faceless and strange looking, holding the bridle of a freshly captured zaphorse while two others are kept in the pen, tied to ropes and metallic poles. 

He turns when he hears footsteps, and the hand that was raised to touch the zaphorse's muzzle is lowered as he watches their approach. He tilts his head and his attention focus on the City Bot, the new mech, intensely. Even being faceless, he manages to convey an intense look and a swell of interest, like yesterday, swells in his spark. Ravage goes right to him and curls around his legs, then sit at his pedes while a hand goes to pet her behind the ears automatically.

Ratchet stops in his tracks, suddenly unsure. Was this really a cyberpanther? He glances around again, but still no one else is reacting negatively to its presence, so...?

"Pets?" He scoffs, incredulous gaze snapping over to Knockout. "Who the frag keeps a panther as a pet?" Now his gaze is wary as his side-eyes the mechanimal. While not entirely afraid of the creature since no one else seems to be, he still has a very healthy respect for it. And its razor sharp fangs and claws, and aggressive posturing. 

The sudden, odd sensations, however, has him stiffening, the older mech hissing and taking a jerky step back. "/What the frag was that?!/" Ratchet snarls, snapping at Knockout because honestly he was a little freaked out and there wasn't anyone else around who could explain. Even though telepaths were rare, Ratchet had at least heard of them-- but not telepathic mechanimals! 

He hesitates, not wanting to follow after Knockout when its clear the red mech is heading in the same direction now as the cyberpather. When he does though, he stops, helm cocked when they run into the same mech as yesterday. True to form, however, Ratchet doesn't allow himself ot be intimidated for long and steps forward, brows furrowed in irritation, "Why was Ravage following us?" He demands, bluntly

Soundwave cocks his head to the side and stay very still for a moment, just looking at Ratchet. Then he looks down and seems to glare at the cyberpanther for a long moment until the Beastformer looks down and let out a pitiful whine, demeanor completely submissive and apologetic now. Whatever passed between the two, it had scolded the mechanimal thoroughly and she slunk back to go curl in the shadows and sulk. Then the telepath's attention is back on him and his faceless gaze is very unnerving. Finally he says in a raspy, deep voice.

"Ravage: acted on her own. Will not do it again." His voice sounds almost mechanical but there's a distinct melodic, harmonic undertone to it. "Query: purpose for coming?"

Knockout then steps forward and greets the other with a curt nod and looks almost... relieved for the change of topic. Behind Soundwave, the zaphorse whinnies and hit the ground with his hooves, shaking his big head. SOundwave merely touches its neck and the mechanimal calm down instantly. Knockout had to admit that watching the telepath work is fascinating and that he's a natural with mechanimals. They just... trusts him. He doesn't have to do much, and he's the best at taming the wildest of them. Ravage and Laserbeak are proof enough of that. He sais calmly, nodding towards Ratchet at his side.

"I am showing the new mech around, so he can decides what he wants to do for the Tribe. So far nothing has really caught his interests, but maybe he'll feel more interests in your line of work, Soundwave."

The dark colored visored mech look between the two for a moment, his spark fluttering strangely. Somehow, he wants to refuse right away because... the new mech awakens something in him that makes him uneasy. Maybe frightens him, and certainly confuses him a lot. But after a long pause, he finally nods, and motion for them to stay out of the pen as he re-enters it. And starts to care for the wild trio of zaphorses he has to train. 

The others voice surprises him but not overtly so. Processor or mechanical damage, Ratchet can't help but wonder. Of course there might be other reasons the mech spoke that way, such as preference, but he doubted it. 

In any case, Ratchet watches as Ravage slinks off, slightly bemused by the exchange but he doesnt let it show. Instead, he forges ahead as usual and appraches the lanky mech. "Well, I was considering energon preparation, actually, but that's something I'm already kind of familiar with. If I'm going to be...stuck here," he takes a deep invent; even though he manages to remain calm on the outside, Soundwave would be able to sense the medics distress and displeasure at the thought, "...I might as well expand on my skills." The more useful he was the better, he couldnt help but think wryly. 

While Knockout remains where he is, Ratchet moves closer. He doesnt enter the pen, smart enough to follow the handlers silent instruction, but stands just outside of it. If he does decide this is the job for him, he cant let himself feel intimidated by the mechanimals. He's silent for a bit, just watching, curious, before he finally asks, "...How do you do that? I dont know much about mechanimals," they didnt really have them in the cities besides a few stray turbohounds or cybercats, "but it cant be that easy to calm wild ones."

Soundwave is silent for a moment after that wuestion, trying to ignore that his spark is fluttering wildly in his chest at that moment. He finally speaks again, his dull monotone carrying a surprising amount of fondness and care. 

"Emotional connection." He said softly, and there's a soft thrill underlying his voice, melodious and calming. "Empathic level, soothe the animal's emotions at the source." 

The mech is obviously not used to talk much but he seems to care a whole lot for the mechanimals under his care. One of the zaphorses suddenly start screaming and trashing wildly, and manages to break the barrier and start to run free, towards the two mechs observing the scene. Knockout dive out of the way with a resounding "SLAG!" and it seems as if the animal is going to go on a rampage, despite the handler's patient work. 

But Soundwave surprises them yet again when he let out a burst of sound that has a strange effect, as if paralyzing whoever hears it. The zaphorse is affected too and stops in its track but it's still panting and whining and its optics are wide and terrified, dangerous on any level. This is what a handler's job is all about. Soundwave takes a bridle from a nearby stack and calmly goes after the now paralyzed animal, and as he goes, never lose optics contact with it. And he's streaming a constant litany of sounds, not quite words, and not quite a melody, but somewhere in between. In a matter of minutes, he manage to take the animal back into the pen and secure him so he can't escape again, then he looks at his watchers with what could amount to a sorry look on a faceless mech. 

"Soundwave: apologize. Escape is a rare occurrence. The animal is now safely contained." He looks at ratchet directly as he speaks, as if to convey a special apology to the red and white mech that caught his optics.

"So you're an empath?" Ratchets asks, surprised. Never mind the fact Soundwave was also telepathic, but able to read a beings emotions as well as their mind? Made him truly powerful. And not to mention well feared by the rest of the tribe, if also well respected. Though from Ratchet there wasn't any of that fear. Just a spike of curiosity and interest. After all, such abilities were rare and he'd be treating this mech at some point, most likely. So he wasn't sure how that would affect Soundwave's state if he were ever to get injured. 

Before Soundwave could verbally confirm his suspicions though, one of the zaphorses went wild. Since Ratchet was standing right outside the pen, he was just barely able to avoid taking the full brunt of the animals charge, but it still grazed him, knocking the older mech to the ground. Ah, the perils of nomadic life: first day here he gets molested and burned, and now a shooting pain rockets through his arm, as he inadvertently catches himself with the damaged limb. "Frag!" He hisses even as he scrambles back up, not wanting to be a sitting target should the beast charge back his way. Not that he had to worry, apparently. 

He watches, slightly amazed and dumbfounded. 

"It's....all right," Ratchet finally says, cradling his arm against his chest. "I don't blame the animals," 'for wanting to escape,' he adds silently in his head. "Though I honestly don't know how much help I'd be no matter what I decided to do with this blasted injury," he grimaces towards Knockout. "I think I know what I'd like to do, but...until I heal up a bit more, do you think my earlier proposal of watching the bitlets would work?"

Knockout, who had been in a bit of a shock after the incident, was clearing his vocaliser and keeping somewhat farther away from Soundwave then he previously had. And he was eyeing the mechanimal handler with what could be see as wariness and even a bit of fear. He steered clear from the telepath and the beasts as he made his way closer to Ratchet. He gingerly examine the burnt wound and sigh, shaking his head.

"Even if you wanted to, you couldn't use that arm for at least a week, more likely two." »He grumbled a bit, side eyeing Soundwave who was back to caring for the wild zaphorses. "So I would recommend a less taxing work for the time being. I have some ointment for this in the Dispensary tent, if you want it?" 

He tone was inquiri9ng but his optics were warm and he smiled at the medic. The younger Healer had the petential to become a great medic, had been studying for just that before the Plague hit, and Ratchet, if he taught him what he knew, could take him as a real pupil. Knockout's expression became suddenly vacant for a moment and when he spoke again, he seemed a bit in a hurry, maybe worried too.

"Breakdown just contacted me. He says Sunstorm isn't feeling too good right now, Starscream just brought him in and that I should return. They need my help. You... can come back with me, or do you prefer to stay here?"

He obviously was hoping that Ratchet would come back with him, but he didn't push him. He was hopeful, though.

-TBC-


	4. A Wild Day

Chapter Four: A Wild Day

 

The older mech quirked his lips into a small smile; he was well aware that his arm was basically useless, but he wasn't sure how strict or relentless the nomads were. He hadn't been sure if his injury would be considered severe enough to the tribe to count as an excuse to take a bit of a break, or if he'd still have to try and prove himself.   
  
Still, it was good to know that Knockout seemed to care and, even better, was competent in what he knew how to do. He might not be able to handle more severe injuries and illness, but Ratchet recognized a (partly) trained medic when he saw one. "Very well, doctor," he agrees, nodding his helm. "And, yes. That would be much appreciated." He had his own supply in his jumpkit in his subspace but he'd rather save his own supplies where he could.   
  
He turns towards Soundwave, expression unreadable as he inclines his helm towards the mech; "It was good to meet you Soundwave. I'll be back to speak to you later," he informs the other, then turns away to follow after Knockout. Not only would he like to put on the ointment as soon as possible- given all the abuse his poor arm has already suffered today- but also because he is curious about the sick sparkling. Sunstorm had seemed perfectly fine last night so a sudden sickness was worrisome.   
  
"Is Sunstorm prone to illness?" He asks as they walk back to the dispensary/medtent together. When they enter, Barricade is nowhere to be seen and Breakdown is standing beside on of the medberths with Sunstorm seated upon it, Starscream also there and helping to support his sparkling to sit up.

 

When they enter the seeker turns to them, his wings hiking up. "/There/ you are," he growls, "Sunstorms been squalling all morning. Finally got him to stop not too long ago, but now he's acting lethargic and-"  
  
Ratchet steps forward, expression soft and gentle as he approaches the sparkling. As a fully trained and upgraded medic he had built in scanners to diagnose problems. Starscream's description of the symptoms was helpful though as it already meant he could start mentally eliminating possible causes. He croons in sparkling talk, little babbles and clicks which seemed to draw Sunstorms attention and distract him from the tingly sensation of being scanned. "He's got a block in one of his tanks," he says softly. "Would explain why he's been cranky and tired; probably still feels hungry even if he's eaten." He sides optics Knockout. "Where are the supplies for the caravan? He'll need a little bypass surgery, nothing big, but obviously I don't want him awake for that."  
  
Starscream's wings hike up even further if possible, the mech obviously stressed at the thought his bitlet would need surgery. "What?!"  
  
The sound of his shouting making Sunstorm whimper then begin to cry and the seeker cursed as he lifted his bitlet to try and comfort him.  
  
"Like I said it isn't anything too serious. It's a common issue in sparlings, their systems are sometimes underdeveloped so complications can occur like this. I've done this plenty of times before the Plague."

 

Soundwave nods his head once in acknowledgement and his melodious voice albeit dronish and emotionless follow him as he leaves.   
  
"Soundwave: glad to see you again. Will be waiting."  
  
He stares for a while at the white medic's retreating back and his tilted head and flashing visor are indicating of a deep confusion and thoughtful demeanor. He gingerly leaves a clawed hand to pressed over his spark and feels the steady yet wild bat under the plating. The tiny flutters are not discernible but he can sense them all the same. And he finds himself longing to see the City bot again.   
  
In the medtent, the little one is curled against his carrier's chestplates and still cry and whimpers, his carrier's stress making his own rise higher. Sunstorm is an active sparkling, usually, so to see him all tired and drowsy like is worrisome to a caring carrier. Knockout is quick to point out the requested crates that are stacked at the back of the medtent and he says while already moving to gather supplies.   
  
"The crates are all there? What do you need? I can act as assistant for this."  
  
He sounds highly competent and professional, all traces of his slightly snobbish, vain demeanor vanishing from his frame and voice. He opens a couple of them where he thinks he'll find what he needs and gather things that they'd need, at least what he can get his servos on. He never likes to see a sparkling sick or distressed... He wouldn't want Tracks to be in this condition, so he would do his best to alleviate other carrier's own stress over the issue.

 

"But what, exactly, are you going to do to him?" Starscream demands as he watches the two medics prepping, still bouncing his bitlet against his chest; though he is a bit distracted from his sparkling's cries, his attention partly divided

 

"I'll put him under using some of the anesthesia available, then make a tiny incision in his abdomen to remove the blockage. A bit of sealant mesh should be adequate to cover the cut. It will be very, very small," he assures the other.   
  
Then he turns to look at Knockout and nods his helm. "I was going to need your assistance anyway, what with my arm...It will also be a good learning experience for you, I think." He smiles gently, "Grab the chemical anesthesia, anti-rust cream, and the self-adhesive patching mesh," he requests. They could always tend to his own injuries later, once the sick sparkling was done. Slapping a bit of ointment on really wasn't a big deal.  
  
"All right, ah, Starscream... lay him on the berth and we'll get started," he requests once all of the desired items are made available. Starscream is reluctant to let go of his child, especially since Sunstorm is holding onto him so tightly. It distresses him to stress his sparkling out even more, Star carefully pries Sunstorm off himself so the two healers could ensure his bitlet was taken care of.   
  
He vents deeply, watching with hawk-like optics-- he would have no idea if they messed up or did something wrong, but if anything happened to Sunstorm, both mechs would be damned. And he'd like to see Megatron or anyone else try and punish him for it.   
  
Ratchet takes the anesthesia, one injected into their lines rather than being inhaled to put Sunstorm to sleep so he wouldn't feel the cut. He had tools built into his servos which transformed into a scalpel to make the cut. An endoscope extended from the tip of one of his digits inside the incision site to locate the blockage. "All right, I see it...Knockout, you have very slim, delicate claws. You'd be better suited for extracting the obstruction and then I can quickly seal it afterwards."

 

Knockout showed how much of a professional he could be and nodded at Ratchet's instructions. The elder medic was far more experienced, and he would gratefully bow to his wisdom in this situation. He could have found the problem, himself, but not before the sparkling got through a lot more hurt and pain. That Ratchet found it right away and got to work, giving instruction and calming the distraught carrier, made him feel proud and relaxed. Sunstorm was, after all, the newborn Heir of Megatron and Starscream both and he was important to the Tribe.   
  
"Of course, let me get a good look first." Knockout replied while feeling Starscream hover right over his right shoulder, observing everything with sharp optics. "There, I have it!" He finally said, after carefully slipping the tips of his long, fine claws into the tiny cut to get to the obstruction, and pull it out.  
  
It was a small clump of partly hardened energon crystals, and Knockout put it on a clean tray nearby to be disposed of later. The whole procedure, not taking into account who the patient was, was fascinating, and he was happy to be able to observe a fully trained and experienced medic at work. When the Plague of Dark Energon started after the Meteor Shower, he was finishing up his second year of medicine at the Medical Academy in Iacon. He was on a leave and seeing his mate in Praxus when the first Meteors hit the large city... He remembered so clearly what had transpired then. It still gave him nightmares. If they hadn't been able to leave this Pit Hole in time, they would have fallen prey to the Dark Energon Plague.   
  
Breakdown had entered at some point since he could feel both his mate and sparkling nearby, and that Tracks was awake and needing his carrier. But this was more important, so he sent both his mate and creation love and a request to be patient.

 

The end of his endoscope had a small light on it, making it easier for Knockout to see into the incision and extract the blockage. As soon as he did, Ratchet withdrew and applied the mesh to the cut on the sparklings inner tubing. Then, he unscrewed the tube of rust cream with his denta to apply it to the sparklings outer plating, before applying more mesh on top.   
  
"There, see? All done," Ratchet says, motioning for Starscream to pick up his child. The seeker did so very, very carefully; afraid that the wrong move would rip open the covered wound.   
  
"And when will he wake up?" He asks.  
  
"Oh, I gave him very little. I'd say about 20 minutes or so. Though he will be very groggy and sleepy for some time even after that," Ratchet explains even as he reaches into his subspace for clean rags to wipe his servos off. He could do a more thorough cleaning later.   
  
He glances up when Breakdown enters, but only gives him a cursory nod of acknowledgement since Starscream begins speaking to him again; "And if he doesn't wake up then?"  
  
Ratchet smiles patiently at the worried carrier, "He will, but if he doesn't? Bring him back. Seriously, relax Starscream. Sunstorm will be fine. Why don't you try to enjoy the next 20 minutes of silence before he wakes crying again?" He suggests. Starscream huffs, but carries his sparkling off. No doubt to bring him back to his and Megatrons tent to his crib.  
  
Finally Ratchet turns to Knockout and sighs; "Right. So. That, ah, burn cream? Would be really appreciated."

 

Knockout had followed the seeker's retreat with an amused smile, knowing quite well that Starscream is going to watch over his sparkling like a cyberhawk until he wakes up. Seekers are like that, overprotecti9ve of their young. He returns his attention to Ratchet when he speaks and nods then goes to a nearby crate.   
  
"Of course, of course! There it is." He says, handing the older mech a sealed container made of rough clay and polymer sealant. The top is securely sealed to avoid the content spoiling and had never been opened yet. "Apply a nice even layer on the burns and rub it in gently. It should start working in a few minutes."

 

Breakdown, with a fussing Tracks in his arms, waits patiently bouncing and whining sparkling that is obviously on the verge of outright crying as he struggles and push at the wide chest, tiny claws digging into plating and leaving tiny wounds. Seeing that, Knockout winces in sympathy but see his large mate is staying stoically still and he smiles at that. Fussy sparkling is fussy and he needs his feeding...    
  
The day had been long and arduous, and Tracks had napped through a part of it under his Sire's watchful optic securely held to his chest with the carrier. Since they are leaving soon, it has to be done, though and it is obviously by how tired his mate feels through their bond that he's been at it all day... When Knockout finally is done and walks up to them, he starts by kissing his mate lovingly, then takes little Tracks off his servos. The sparkling stops fussing almost instantly and curl happily into his Carrier's chest, pawing for a feeding lines. Knockout offers one with a warm chuckle and feels the little one latching on the draining energon from his systems. It's a nice, fulfilling feeling that he would never get enough of.   
  
"How was your day, lover? He asks finally, feeling the sparkling right over his spark and feeding.   
  
In the rafters of the tent, a sleek red and black cyberfalcon enters and perch on a wooden beam, observing the scenery below. It doesn't try to hide itself, it often flies around the village and perch wherever it feels like it. It's one of Soundwave's pets, the one Ratchet hadn't met yet.

 

 

Ratchet takes the pot of ointment with a soft 'thanks,' and takes a seat on one of the berth in order to unwrap his arm. Thankfully the ointment he'd used previously prevented the mesh from sticking to the wound so that it came away cleanly, if a bit spotty with energon. He worked silently, but also watched with interest as the two mated mechs interacted.  
  
Breakdown smiled good-naturedly as he held their fussing sparkling, not seeming to mind at all that he had to wait, despite how annoying it must have been to hold onto the wiggly bundle. "I see how it is, I know who's your favorite creator," he chuckles, the mech obviously teasing since he knew only a carrier could feed a mechlet. His own feeding lines wouldn't engorge unless he himself ended up sparked.   
  
He kisses Knockout, smiling into it, before passing off their bitlet. He'd never tire seeing their bitlet feed either, since he knew it was making the other big and strong. Plus, it made him appreciate his mate even more with how well he cared for Tracks. And he sent waves and waves of love to both mate and sparkling alike, making Tracks coo even as he continued to suckle.   
  
"Busy," he finally answers. "Barricade and I are ahead of schedule though so we'll definitely be ready to move out on time--"  
  
The mention of which had Ratchet frowning slightly, which he was quick to hide by ducking his helm. So little time, so little time! Though Knockouts little tour of the camp had really helped him today in getting a lay of the land for escape.  
  
While the two mates chat a bit more Ratchet notices the falcon fly in and tips his helm up, pausing in his work to admire the beautiful creature. He quickly finishes wrapping up his arm; when he does he looks back up and offers up his good arm before whistling softly to the bird

 

There was a pause and a soft ruffle of metal feathers and then the cyberfalcon glided gracefully from its perch near the top of the tent. He landed on the offered arm with practiced ease, and it was easy to realize, by how careful it was with its talons, that it was someone's pet. Or companion, in that case, since the bird was a Beastformer and not a mechanimal. He looked into Ratchet's optics fearlessly, calmly asking permission with a gently mental nudge. Having been created by Soundwave and bonded to the mech since their creation, they shared his special mental abilities as well, at least partly. They could communicate telepathically, and they could talk that way.   
  
Ravage just often chose not to, but Laserbeak wasn't that much of a loner, and liked company. The cyberfalcon waited patiently and groomed a wing with its sharp beak while the mech decided if he wanted to talk to him or not. He used to opportunity to peep at Knockout and his mate, and would have smiled at their interactions. He just loved sparkling's... and Tracks was such a cute and well behaved little one!   
  
Knockout hadn't noticed the cyberfalcon enter the med tent and was too busy feeding his sparkling and generally basking in his mate's love and devotion. He just lived for this, the love and care and never-ending gentleness of the big bulky Quartermaster. He was soft and caring at spark and that was what was the most important. In his arms, Tracks was suckling away happily and curled against his carrier's chestplates, but his optics had spotted the bird and he squealed happily around the line he was feeding from, making a little mess on his face and chest.   
  
Knockout bounced and shushed him, not realizing with the fuss was about and completely focused on his mate while enjoying the feeling of his sparkling feeding from him.   
  
"So, we will be ready in time, good. I expected nothing less from you and Barricade. You two are very effective."

 

When the creature landed on his arm, Ratchet's other servo came up, prepared to pet its helm. When he felt the mental nudge again though he paused, and frowned. It would have been nice if someone had warned him about this; as it was, Ratchet was handling his mind being prodded exceptionally well. And by exceptionally well it was more like, he jerked back and away from the animal, armor fluffing up defensively.  
  
"What the slag is going on?!" He demands, since his earlier question about the mental violation had been ignored.  
  
Breakdown looks up from his mate and feeding sparkling with a startled look, glancing between the freaked-out medic and Laserbeak. Though the hulking mech just grins as he approaches the pair, servos up in a placating manner. "Oh, hey. It's nothing to worry about just Laserbeak, one of Soundwave's pals," he explains.   
  
"Yeah and this is twice now that I felt...something around one of them. I demand an explanation," he says angrily, plating still ruffled anxiously.  
  
Oh. Right. It was probably uncomfortable and frightening for a mech that was unprepared to have their mind touched. "Sorry. Should have mentioned it sooner. Bother Soundwave and his compatriots have limited telepathic abilities. It's how they talk. Ravage and Laserbeak aren't mere mechanimals," he explains in an attempt to soothe the other. "He probably just wanted to talk to you, eh Beaky?" He grins

 

"There is nothing to worry about." Knockout said calmly walking over them with Tracks curled against his chest still suckling lazily. "They are harmless, and while not on a Cybertronian level, their intelligence is unmistakable. They are Beastformers, and Soundwave's little symbionts."   
  
Tracks cooed around the line he was now barely suckling, too fascinated by the beautiful bird to focus on his feeding. He squealed happily and reached a hand to touch the pretty black and red beastformer and Laserbeak just fluffed her plating and preened at the attention, making little squawk and trills for the sparkling to enjoy. Knockout laughed fondly and took Track's little hand so the sparkling won't be too rough with the smaller creature.   
  
"No no no, Tracks. Gentle, remember? Laserbeak is not a toy." He chided lightly and Tracks pouted and cooed more, having dropped the feeding line by now. "You still need to finish your meal sweetie. Let's leave these three, together shall we?"   
  
He took Tracks behind the removable leather and metal separation that blocked the back of the tent and the sparkling happy babble and chirrs could still be heard for a while until he fell silent. Laserbeak then fixed her optics on Breakdown and tilted her head, squawking at him in affirmative.

 

Symbionts? Ratchet flicks his gaze over to the hovering cyberfalcon, optics narrowing. He'd heard the word before. Knew what it meant. A sub-class of Cybertronians. Not quite drones, but not quite fully intelligent either. They made the Functionalists quite uneasy, since there wasn't a good explanation for Primus having created them with little purpose beyond needing a host-mech to survive.  
  
He'd known one such bot. Blaster, back in Cyber City, before the plague. He didn't know what had happened to the bot afterwards.  
  
"Like I said, sorry for not mentioning it sooner," Breakdown repeats, watching as his mate takes their sparkling to feed elsewhere. "But neither Laserbeak nor Ravage meant any harm. Only way they can speak though." He approaches the pair and offers an arm as Ratchet had in order for the other to perch so she wouldn't have to hover there.

 

Ratchet's engine rumbles, but he approaches as well, gaze more curious than upset now. "I was just worried it was some sort of...remote hack attempt or something. It was unexpected." He cocks his helm towards Laserbeak, "So you wanted to talk, eh? All right. My apologies for my earlier reaction--"  
  
Breakdown snorts, finding the others formal attitude a bit funny. "No need for that, doc. Beaky's pretty chill. More so than her master at any rate."   
  
"Anyway, I'll leave you two to chat for now. Gotta get back to work. But Ratch, feel free to look around here too. Even though we're moving soon you'll need to know where everything is."  
  
"Yes. Right," Ratchet says a bit tightly. He supposes looking around will let him snatch up supplies....

 

 

Laserbeak squawked and jumped from Breakdown's arm to his, red optics peering at him curiously and oddly intelligent. The mental nudged resumed and this time, he heard a high pitched feminine voice accompanying it.   
  
'Thank you, Ratchet. I see what Soundwave sees in you...' She said with a slightly mischievous tone and a laugh. 'I wanted to apologize for Ravage's earlier behavior. Really, she was a bit overprotective, as always.'   
  
The bird was pecking at a wing as she spoke mentally and her voice was clear and wasn't beast-like at all. She was more intelligent than anyone would think, even the barbarians of the Tribe. And she preferred it this way. Being underestimated had its advantages and let her get away with many things. She tilted her head and peered at him curiously, letting out a melodious trill.   
  
'My master seemed to really appreciate your presence. If you do decide to start learning under his tutelage, once you're able, he'll be very happy about it, even if he would never say it out loud. He has... issues, and he is very secretive.'  
  
She nuzzled her head into his chest for a bit and then she took off towards the ceiling of the tent, perched on a beam there, and looked down at him, saying before she departed through the hole in the tent's roof.   
  
'It was nice talking to you Ratchet. Hope to see more of you soon!'  
  
Knockout hadn't reappeared by then, he was still taking care of Tracks, and Ratchet was now alone with Breakdown in the tent. The setting sun was casting red and orange rays through the entrance and bathing everything in fiery light.

 

This time Ratchet doesn't flinch away from the mental nudge. It still feels odd, but he doesn't consciously put up any sort of resistance. The voice he hears inside his helm isn't what he's expecting though. For a non-sentient being, she was very articulate. He blinks at her on his arm, expression a little bewildered

 

"Huh?" Is the oh-so-intelligent reply. 'Sees in me? What's that supposed to mean?' He wonders. It wasn't like he's said more than a handful of words to the mech in the onetime they'd met face to face. "I mean...his work certainly seems interesting. I'll still think on it a bit though," is what he finally answers, a bit of unease slipping into his tone. He's had enough issues in adjusting to.... everything here. And he didn't want to deal with another Thundercracker, if that was what Laserbeak was implying in her master's interest. Just because these barbarians seemed to believe in lust at first sight, Ratchet was still too shaken from Thundercracker, never mind his predicament as a quasi-prisoner, to think about any of that right now.  
  
Still. He gently pets the femmes helm when she nuzzles him, not feeling at all threatened by her, unlike the others. "Nice meeting you too, Laserbeak. I wish more of your compatriots were so mindful," he replies, letting her launch off his arm.   
  
With Breakdown having slipped into the far back again and Knockout still busy, Ratchet decides to finally explore the rest of the tent to dig through the supplies. See what they managed to steal from the caravan and what else he'd be working with. As expected there wasn't really any energon just lying about for him to take; that was no doubt being guarded by Breakdown and the mech Barricade in the back. Still, he managed to locate where the bandages, antiseptics and rust creams were, coolant, sheet metal for armor patches, various wiring and tubing, and the anesthesia. So at least he was kept busy---  
  
Only when it started getting dark out that not enough light was getting into the tent to see did he finally pause and realize how much time had passed. "Knockout? Breakdown?" He calls uncertainly

 

 

There were no sounds coming from the back space of the medtent anymore, and it was obvious that ratchet had been left to his own devices. The tent was now dark and night had fallen outside, but a full moon and half of one were hanging low in the sky above the camp.  It gave everything an eerie feeling of unease. Mechanimals were making sounds in the distance, towards were Soundwave lived and worked, and high in the sky, a wild cyberowl let out a haunting cry.

 

There was light from a few fires, or course, but they were kept low and the one in the middle of the camp, in front of the communal tent, was not lit tonight and so the camp was very dark and looked... a bit scary for one not used to it. From the tent adjacent the medbay some light and the whispers of voices could be heard, Knockout<s rich baritone easily recognizable, as well as Breakdown rougher, coarser tone.  The red healer and his mate had retired for the night, but two bright optics followed Ratchet's movements from the shadows.

 

A low, threatening growl started to emit from the creature hiding in the shadows, and the yellow optics shone brighter, as well as the flash of silvery fangs. It looked vaguely and sounded a bit like Ravage, but it was bigger, and obvioulsy not tame. A wild adult male Cyberpanther or mecha-lion that had snuck into the camp using the cover of the night, hoping for an easy prey...

 

It smelled a lonely mech, older and weaker, nearby. A prey, and it started to stalk closer using the shadows. Ratchet would be an easy prey for a wild, large adult big cybercat. 

 

The silence sends a shiver down his back and Ratchet slowly stands, helm swivelling back and forth as he scans the tent. What the frag?! Was he so absorbed in hsi thoughts he hadn't noticed bots leaving? The medtent had been a fairly busy place, given the work being done in the back in the dispensary; surely, he would have notice the loss of so much noise? Something like this had never happened to him before and quite honestly that more than the ambient silence freaked him out; was he already losing his mind out here?!

 

However, his brief moment of fear is just as quickly overtaken by his usual temper. Really? Really?! No one had thought to tell him they were leaving?! What the frag! Well, jokes on them...

 

Using his days 'adventures' to his benefit Ratchet takes some mesh patches, anesthesia, some misc. spare parts, and coolant and stuffs them into his subspace. Then he goes into the back and transforms one of his digits into a micro-torch to melt off the lock on one of the energon storage containers he'd seen Breakdown working at with Barricade. Then he took several days worth of supplies and stored them in subspace too.

 

He wasn't wholly prepared, but he wasn't going to look a gift zaphorse in the mouth, after all. If they were content to forget about him, he was content to slip away into the night and escape. He'd seen the edge of the plateau and felt sure he'd spotted a foot path over where Soundwave worked with his mechanimals.

 

Patting himself down one last time, Ratchet slips out the back of the dispensary-side entrance and does his best to stealth away from the camp--

 

With a snarl, a large mechanimal jumped out of the shadows and directly on him, all claws out and ready to kill him, quite obviously. It was large, feline and definitely angry, and when it collided with him, it sent them bot rolling on the ground, with the mecha-lion pinning him under him with its impressive weight. But before the mechanimal had a chance to go for his throat, as was obviously the intention, another dark form leapt out of the shadows, lunging at the large cybercat with an angry howl.

 

It was Ravage, and the cyberpanther was fighting off the mecha-lion with all her impressive might. SHe snarled, hiss, growl and use her claws and fangs quite efficiently. The mecha-lion was bigger, but she was more intelligent and she was starting to get the upper hand. And she was effectively blocking the predator from getting to Ratchet.

 

"Ravage: Desist."

 

The neutral, emotionless tone of Soundwave announce the arrival of the mech who stepped out of the shadows holding a tranquilizer gun, ropes and a bag slung over his back. Ravage immediately obeyed her Master and returned to his side as he shot the mecha-lion, who finally fell unconscious on the ground. Soundwave made short work of restraining and sedating the mechanimal further and putting a control collar on it. Only when he was finally done did he turn his attention on Ratchet.

 

"Leaving: Unwise. Rust plains are between Plateau and Iacon. Infested with Terrorcons. You would not survive." He stated, his tone unchanging, but there was an odd sense of concern, maybe even worry, in it. He tilted his helm and scrutinized Ratchet for a moment, in silence, as if in thought. "Assigned Guardians: Where?"

 

This time there was definitely a hint of anger directed at Breakdown and Knockout. The telepath was annoyed and it was showing in his colder and harsher tone.

 

With a startled cry Ratchet goes down, hard. His back hits the hard ground since his arms instinctively went up to fend off the beast so he had no way to break his fall. Still. The move might have saved his life, the creatures claws and teeth biting into his arms rather than his face or neck.

 

He's venting hard, in pain and disoriented, when the creature is just as suddenly thrown off of him as it jumped him. For the sake of his already injured arm though, he's lucky the creature had mostly just bowled into him rather than getting in any good bites or scratches; he's more injured from the fall than the mechalion, if the twinge in his back is any indication.

 

He manages to sit himself up, wincing at the movement. Yeah, definitely dented or pulled something in his back. And he just stares first at Ravage, then Soundwave when the mech makes himself known.

 

Ratchet hunkers down, armor slicking flat against his frame defensively. "Hmph. And why should you care?" He snips, forcing himself to stand once the immediate danger is past. Still. Soundwave knows. Which means Ratchet is just waiting for the other pede to drop; for the other to rat him out or even punish him himself for stealing the supplies and trying to escape.

 

"I want to go home," he grinds out, "If I'm really a tribesmember now or whatever, I should be free to come and go as I please." He doesn't bother to answer Soundwave's other question beyond a shrug of his shoulders; in their tent, he'd presume, but he doesn't honestly care.

 

Soundwave is silent for a long moment, just observing him with that unnerving faceless mask of his. One of his hand scratches behind Ravage's audio receptors making the cyberpanther purr contentedly. It's almost as if he's scrutinizing him, analyzing and deciding what to do next. Finally, when he speaks, his tone his softer, gentler then he had ever heard it before.

 

"Soundwave: do care. Ratchet: ...important. City bots will most likely refuse entrance back. Fear contamination. Mistrust. Ratchet: Stay. Safer, we take care of our own." He takes a step closer and tilts his head, giving him a cute, almost pleading expression.

 

He's aware of the supplies the mech had stolen for his escape attempt. He would not have survived the wilds long without them. Every bit of supplies is important to them, especially energon, which is hard to come by in these parts. Medical supplies also, that they had to steal from City Bots caravans since they can't get them out there. If Ratchet is caught by anyone else he would most likely be faced with the harshest punishment they can give short of death. Probably the Iron or the Whip...

 

Soundwave can't accept that. His very spark rebels at the idea. He startles himself with the intensity of this feeling, and takes a second to analyze it. His spark is fluttering strangely in both fear and longing. What are those feelings? His spark feels warm whenever the mech is close and he wants to find excuses to be close to him still. How intriguing...

 

He doesn’t have time to ponder more, as there is a commotion from the direction of the village. Soon a group of them is running towards the edge of the plateau and Soundwave's tent. Instinctively, Soundwave places himself in front of the smaller mech in a protective way and face the approaching group. Breakdown and Knockout are at the gead, and the later looks pissed beyond words.

 

"There he is! Wasn't so hard to find our thief!" He says and his tone is harsh and brusque, angry. "You know Ratchet, you should have checked out back! I was right there with Breakdown, we were checking on the crates piled there! I saw you... And I thought you were starting to at least try fitting in!"

 

Behind them are Megatron, Starscream and a few others. Megatron looks neutral but somber as he levels a cold, hard look on the fleeing Autobot medic. That sure doesn't bodes well for our poor medic... When he speaks his tone is calm and controlled.

 

"Move, Soundwave. You know the penalty for theft. Even being new he isn<t exempted from it. Stealing Energon is a most serious offense."

 

"Negative." Soundwave's answer seems to slightly shock Megatron, who blinks a few times, but before he can retort, the telepath adds, quickly. "Soundwave: Claims the right of acquisition! Will shoulder responsibility for offense, in exchange of being granted the right of punishment!"

 

-TBC…-


	5. Understanding the rules

Ratchet's lips curl up over denta in a sneer. Not because Soundwave is wrong, but rather, the opposite. He's aware of the dangers in the Rust Plains. And that just makes him angrier, honestly, because his 'plan' hadn’t been much of one at all. An idea, really, one fueled by desperation and circumstance. He'd thought he had a good opportunity to escape and so he'd taken it without much actual thought at all.

 

Just because deep in his spark he knew Soundwave was right, though, didn't mean he'd choose to believe it. There was a chance that, as a medic, they'd be willing to...overlook some things. Especially since he really hadn’t been bitten. And if he was attacked? Well, he could just as easily kill himself to prevent himself becoming a terrorcon. He didn’t want to die, but he was old. And did he really want to spend the rest of his life here, surrounded by bots that forced themselves on mechs and saw it as normal? What else did they do, bleed mechs?

 

Before he can shoot off an acerbic comment though, he too hears the noise of the other villagers and straightens his stance, looking about ready to bolt. Of course, with Starscream there, the flier could very easily run him down--

 

Breakdown is carrying a crying Tracks, the bitlet upset by the anger and hurt radiating along both his sire and carrier's bond. The big navy mech is shushing and bouncing the sparkling, but it likely isn’t helping that he's also glaring daggers at the medic as well. "You're practically stealing fuel right from our bitlets mouth!" He snaps.

 

"Funny, since you seem to like stealing mechs straight from their friends and family!" Ratchet spits back, not backing down despite the various intimidating looking mechs ready to beat down on him for the affront.

 

The argument is cut short, however, by Soundwave's declaration. Ratchet doesn’t understand, of course, the meaning of the others proclamation, but there are several gasps from the assembled mechs. "But, you don’t even know the mech!" Breakdown protests, "That’s supposed to be for like, mates or sparklings--"

 

"If Soundwave wants to take the citylings punishment, then let him," Starscream sneers, his own bitlet back at the tent recovering from the surgery still. He's in his crib though and should be fine for the short while they are away. He doesn’t particularly like Soundwave. His and Megatron's bonding had been strictly for their alliance, nothing more. Yet the seeker found himself jealous anyway of the easy friendship Megatron and the freak seemed to have. So, it would only serve to delight Starscream in being able to lash out in some way. "It’s his choice."

 

He flicks his claws over to the slim blue mech, then to Megatron, "Dearest mate, why don’t you do the honors of punishing the mech, hm? 30 lashes with the whip is the minimum, isn’t it?"

 

Ratchet splutters as he hears this. "Or you could just let me go- if I die in the wastes surely that’s not your problem?"

 

"Tch, and risk one more terrorcon in the world? No dear medic. If you want to die, we'll gladly put the hole through your helm ourselves."

 

Ratchet's jaw snaps shut at that, and instead casts Soundwave a bemused look.

 

“Enough Starscream!” Megatron finally say, his tone calm and his voice even, even if slightly bemused. “Soundwave… you do know the consequences of such an action. Are you ready to accept the full ramifications of your choice?”

 

His questions gather more expectant, shocked and eager looks from the assembled Tribesmechs and their optics shifts between Soundwave, Megatron and Starscream. There a pregnant pause as Soundwave seems to think, but he doesn’t move and neither does he change his stance. He still holds himself tall in front of the bemused Autobot and nods once. His whole demeanor shows clearly that he does not intend to move or retract his words. It really shocks most of the mechs presents, and when he speaks once more, answering his Leader, he reinforces the feeling that he is much serious.

 

“Affirmative. Soundwave: will not retract. Decision: final.”

 

“But… why? You don’t even know him?” Knockout blurts out, tilting his head in a decidedly baffled manner. He then turns his attention to Ratchet and narrows his optics, looking incensed as he speaks. “Do you realize the importance of what he had just offered?! He is basically offering up his own life for your sake! You… I’m not sure that you deserve the honor! Soundwave is an honored member of our Tribe!”

 

He has gotten closer to Breakdown and is petting Tracks’s helm to try and shush him up, but the sparkling is too upset. He takes him from Breakdown and cradles him to his chest. The sparkling calm a bit and curls, still hiccupping and sniffling, to his carrier’s chest. Once more, its Megatron who cut the growing argument short and look directly at ratchet.

 

“I will explain to you clearly what Soundwave is offering. He will be taking your punishment, which that for stealing energon is 50 lashes because of the rarity and difficulty to find, but in return, you must remain with him at all times and any future offense would also reflect on him, and be shouldered by your new protector.” He pauses to let his words sink, his red optics barrowed to a slit, clearly shaken, to some extent, by this turn of events. “So, I suggest that you think very carefully about your next course of action, Autobot. While I do not understand his decision, Soundwave clearly see something in you that we cannot.”

 

After those words, he abruptly turns around and order sharply, his voice hard and cold.

 

“Take the Autobot and Soundwave to the Central Ground and prepare the Whipping post! Let’s get this over with as fast as possible.” He looks directly at Starscream with a clear warning as he says those words, telling his mate not to make a humiliating show out of this. “Shockwave will give out the punishment, not you. Understood?”

 

Soundwave doesn’t resist when he’s pulled along as they all return to the center of the village and there, an ominous looking yet basic stand made of two metal posts from whish dangles shackles and chains on a slightly elevated platform is already erected. A one optics, bulky mech stands in silence at the side, summoned through a private comm line by Megatron, and waits calmly as Soundwave is made ready to receive the punishment, being shackled with arms raised between the two posts.

 

This time Ratchet's armor fluffs out, bristling with affront. "It's not like I asked," he snips back and directs his glare between Knockout and Megatron. But then he realizes his level of foolishness and bites his glossa, even if the hatred and anger he feels towards the group hasn't abated one bit and is quite clear on the medic's face. On one servo, he doesn't want another mech to take his punishment for him. And under any other circumstances he wouldn't stand for it.

 

But he's honestly not sure if he'd be able to withstand 50 lashes. And a part of him- a dark, shameful part that he's very very quick to bury- can't help but think that if he's going to be forced to stay with another mech again at least this time, this one wouldn’t be able to try and force himself on him. Not while he was as injured as he was going to be.

 

He has questions of course but feels now isn’t the right time to ask. So, he bides his time, remaining stubbornly silent, and simply crosses his arms over his chassis in response to Megatron's warning to behave.

 

At least he doesn’t try to resist when they're ushered off to the 'Central Grounds.'

 

"Wait," Breadkdown says, and gently grasps Knockout. "I don’t think you should see this. Or at the very least, don't let Tracks witness such a thing. He's young yeah, but he doesn’t need to witness such an awful thing either way." He gently kisses his mate, then their fretful sparkling, "Maybe go to Starscream's tent to keep an optic on Sunstrom too?" He casts a curious look to their leader, but the winged mech seems more focused on his entertainment for the night; Starscream hasn’t said anything further due to Megatron's warning but his delight is still evident.

 

Breakdown sighs; "Or, like I said, just return to our tent. Try and settle Tracks. I'll...let you know how this turns out."

 

As they walk to the Common Grounds, Starscream walks beside Ratchet, ensuring the fool doesn’t try to sneak off again. And when they arrive he grabs Ratchet uninjured arm, his grip tight enough to prevent the other from jerking away; "And don’t think you've gotten off the hook completely, either. Hand over the energon and supplies you stole," he says icily, holding out his empty servo.

 

Considering he was expecting the request, Ratchet simply complies, opening up his subspace to hand over the energon cubes and supplies. He knows Breakdown and Barricade will be doing an inventory check tomorrow to ensure its all been returned so keeping any would be even more stupid than his escape attempt.

 

Then Starscream leads Ratchet over to where he and Megatron will stand, front row views of the coming punishment. "And make sure you don’t offline your optics. You ought to appreciate what he’s doing for you." Not that he cares, but saying it might appease his big dumb mate at least.

 

As the preparations are being finished, Megatron turns those red optics, now holding a hint of fondness when they land on the fussy sparkling and his carrier, to Knockout and Breakdown. Breakdown is right, of course. Such an innocent little spark doesn’t have to witness such violence just yet. He said, calm and composed.

 

“You and Tracks are of course excused, Knockout. Take him to my and Starscream’s tent and keep Sunstorm company, would you? Little bit should be waking up soon for a feeding.”

 

“O-of course, my Lord.” Knockout replies, sounding almost relieved. He had started to feel a bit queasy. He hated this kind of public punishment, seeing them more like humiliation and degradations. “Thank you… We’ll be waiting for you to return.”

 

Megatron nods once and return his attention to the platform, and Soundwave being restrained on it securely. He presses his lip plates in a thin line and his fists tightens at his side. Soundwave was a close, dear friend, and had been since long before the Plague strike Cybertron. He had been a follower of his then nascent rebellion and when the Plague arrived, shattering his plans and dreams for a better Cybertron, Soundwave<s loyalty never wavered. So, he did not understand why the mech would do such a thing, and for a stranger to booth! What did they know about the Iaconian Medic? Nothing! And Soundwave, loyal, unwavering, always faithful Soundwave would shoulder such punishment for that mech?

 

Why? Megatron just couldn’t fathom his reasons… He would have to ask him, once he has recovered of course… On the stand, Shockwave stands ready, electro-whip in hand, and awaits Megatron’s order. He barely notices Knockout leaving after a chaste kiss to his mate, completely focused ahead. Ratchet is made to stand at the very front, in between himself and Starscream. He looks directly into Soundwave unreadable, blank faceplate, and could almost feel the determination, the resolve, and not a hint of fear.

 

“You have one last chance to retract your offer and deny the Right of Punishment, Soundwave.” Megatron finally say, his tone sounding harsh and severe but with a undertone of almost… pleading? Is optics are almost begging his oldest friend to retract his words, but Soundwave does not waver. He shakes his head once and stands straighter. “Very well.” Megatron sighs, almost mournfully, then harder, like a cutting blade. “Begins, Shockwave!”

 

The large, bulky one opticed mech nods once and take his position. The crack of the whip through the otherwise still, silent night is almost defeating, as is the first impact to Soundwave’s broad back. The first few lashes are being taken without even a twitch from the mech, not a sound coming out of him. Even as they near 20 lashes, he still says nothing and barely even move. He just takes the punishment stoically, silently, like a statue.

 

Honestly, Ratchet's just as confused as everyone else. Everything Megatron is thinking, Ratchet's thinking too, and then some. After all, what other reason would Soundwave have for doing this other than trying to 'woo' him? It’s bizarre and honestly makes him feel a little sick, but what other explanation is there for a mech he doesn’t know offering to take 50 lashes for him? No one else would do that. Ratchet would honestly have to say he'd be hard pressed to do something similar for a stranger. Someone he loved, like Wheeljack, maybe. But....

 

The first crack of the whip makes him jump and he flinches. Even if he isn’t the one being hit, he can imagine the damage its doing to the mech. Before he'd come here, there was no doubt in his mind that Soundwave would die from his injuries. Knockout had said he wasn’t trained in the sort of advanced medicine needed to repair the deep wounds Soundwave would sport. He'd either bleed out or get a rust infection. This was meant as a torturous way to kill a thief.

 

Beside him, Starscream has his arms crossed over his chest. He'd placed the supplies in his subspace and would return them to Breakdown once the punishment was over. As much of a brat as he could admittedly be he'd never take supplies from the tribe. But now wasn’t exactly the time to exchange pleasantries with anyone. Except for his own subtle smirk, the rest of those in attendance wore solemn looks.

 

Knockout hadn’t been kidding. Soundwave was well respected, if not well liked because of his telepathy in the tribe. And there was some worry as to what would happen when it was time to move. Would he be able to? And if not, who would round up and be responsible for the mechanimals? Soundwave was, unfortunately, the only animal handler in the tribe. No one could control them like he could even though others had tried, if only to help alleviate him of such a burden. Now they might be in trouble because of such a presumption on their part...

 

The silence that reigns, only broken by the rhythmic crack of the whip, is surreal and makes the whole scene a thousand times more unreal that it had any right to be. On the stand, Soundwave stands silent still, the only sign that he must be feeling pain is the shaking of his frame, the metal plates rattling and grinding against each other, and the way his fists are so tightly tightened that he pierces his own palms with his sharp claws and draw energon blood, making rivulets run down his forearms.  At the 30th lashe, his legs give up, and the only thing holding him up are the shackles and chains bolted to the metal posts high above his head.

 

Still, he doesn’t make a sound, still he doesn’t move, and his blank faceplate looks straight ahead over the crowd. His willpower is either remarkably strong, or he has disabled his vocalizer… but that theory is proven wrong when at the 37th lashes, the whips manage to land squarely over his crotch panel and shatter the delicate circuitry there. He makes a sound then. He let out a pained groan and pants heavily, his arms shaking as he instinctively tries to curl up to protect those overly sensitive parts. Any other mech would have been screaming their vocalizer raw now, but not Soundwave… And that’s the worst part. Him not making a sound, barely reacting to the blows, despite the heavy damage he’s taking.

 

Through the punishment, Megatron stays silent but you could see the stormy expression, the narrowed optics, the thinned lip plates that speaks volume about his anger, even barely contained rage, over the situation. Ratchet, being so close to him, would be able to feel his field filled with wave after wave or concern, rage and frustration. A powerful field that was showing a lot more of what the mech was thinking then his expression or words could. Starscream may think him dumb and brutish, but Megatron was far from it. And Soundwave was his oldest, closest friend. If he died because of this foolishness, then the medic would have forfeited his life. There would be nothing sparing him from Megatron’s wrath.

 

And as the cracks continue, the plating along Soundwave's back begins to split open, energon first oozing then spilling freely down the slicked, sliced up plating. Soundwave is facing the crowd, but the puddle of energon forming at his pedes is enough indication of the damage he's taking.

 

Ratchet shifts uncomfortably, feeling the optics and fields of the others pressing against him. His vents shift, then hitch, when Soundwave suddenly cries out. Even that single, muted noise of pain is disasterously loud in the otherwise quiet area.

 

A knot forms in Ratchet's throat and he has to struggle to work through it. When he finally does though he turns to Megatron, and speaks softly, "Megatron, please. Starscream said 30 would have sufficed. Soundwave won't make it if he loses too much more energon. I- I'm sorry. I understand my mistake," he says hastily. He may not like it here, or these mechs, but he couldn't bear to live with himself knowing he'd been the cause of an innocent mechs death.

 

Megatron is silent for a moment, optics hard on Ratchet, piercing him with their intensity. The warlord in angry, more so then he let on, and then he lifts a hand right after Shockwave administer the 40th lashes. He stops and waits for Megatron’s instructi0ons, taking a step back from Soundwave. Megatron turns squarely to the medic and tilts his head, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“I do not believe you truly believe the words that you are saying, Autobot. You say that you have learned you lesson, but you still would try to leave at the first opportunity, no? You don’t have to answer. I know how you City bots see us Decepticons wanderer. Barbarians, you call us.” He snorts and let a low growl vibrate through his broad chest. He points a digit towards the battered, bleeding form of Soundwave and ask harshly, almost cruelly. “Would a mere savage do what he did for you, a stranger to him and his Tribe?” Another pause, and then Megatron add, his optics shining bright. “Prove to me that you are sincere. That you mean what you say, and are not just trying to silence your own conscience. Take his place on the stand and take the last ten lashes on yourself!”

 

Soudwave, now released from the shackles at Megatron’s command to Shockwave through a comm. Line, weakly try to stand but fail, too weak to move. He hadn’t taken this punishment just to see it be for nothing! He groans, his whole frame a symphony of pain, and lock his gaze with Megatron for a moment, touching his mind. Megatron let him, a bit startled.

 

‘This is unnecessary. Ratchet is old. Even ten lashes might be too much for him. Do not force this on him, please.’ Megatron narrow his optics, looking at him, and Soundwave see that he has made up his mind and that nothing he would say would change it. ‘Megatron, please… Who would heal me if you do this? You know Knockout isn’t skilled enough!’

 

His mental voice is a lot more animated and emotional then his vocalizer. Megatron looks pained for a moment and close his optics, Soundwave has a point, and the medic is an irreplaceable asset to them. Yet, he needs to learn that every action has consequences and that he can’t expect to go free after pulling a stunt like this.

 

‘Soundwave…’ He starts but is again interrupted by the telepath.

 

‘I will make sure that it never happens again! I will monitor him closely, since he will be under my protection! Do you trust me to do that my Lord?’

 

‘I cannot retract my words, or I will look like a fool in front of both Starscream and the rest of the Tribe! Soundwave… I trust you with my life and you know it!’ There is a pause and then a long-suffering sigh. ‘Very well, it is your right as his protector to protest any further punishment, so I will not go on this time… It’ll be your duty to make sure there is never a repeat of tonight!’

 

Soundwave doesn’t answer verbally since he<s at the verge of losing consciousness but his relief is palpable and he let unconsciousness finally claim him, falling limp in Shockwave<s arms that is supporting him. Megatron just observe them for a moment longer before turning to the medic once more and then he says, so everyone can hear.

 

“Soundwave has requested that no further punishment be delivered for this offense, and I agreed to his demands. However, the Autobot will be on close watch for the foreseeable future, both under Knockout and Breakdown in the med tent and with Soundwave as his now protector and Guardian. You can all return home, it’s over.”

 

Ratchet splutters, not having expected to be called out like that. Despite his sense of disquet about this whole scenario, he can still feel his energon begin to boil at Megatron's accusations. Yes! Of course he /wants/ to leave! At the very least, return home so he could say goodbye to his friends and family, let them know he isnt dead! He knows he would not be allowed back inside the city's walls. Not without another city mech to vouch for him; that was one of the purposes of the caravan, to ensure that were they attacked between cities by terrorcons the infected party member(s) would be dealt with before arrival.

 

No one could or would vouch for him. But he could go the gates and request his loved ones presence or have them be informed of his survival.

 

Not to mention the medics bubbling hatred towards their initial treatment of him, anyways.

 

But Ratchet just bites his glossa, and merely glares back at Megatron. His own contempt for the other clear as day-- Actually, no, wait. He can’t simply keep his mouth shut no matter how much he knows he should. He manages to resist for all of 5 seconds before he blurts, "And I should want to stay with a group that, had I not saved your offspring, would have been content to allow another to force himself on me?!" He spits. "I don’t care that you travel or wander. I know that is no fault of your own, but the cities who shun you. I call you barbarian for your gross mistreatment of others--"

 

"So, you continue to run your mouth, at Soundwave's possible expense?" Starscream muses from beside him, the mech staring idly at his claws.

 

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn’t realize voicing one’s opinions was a punishable offense," he sneers in response. "I don’t have to like you to know attempting escape again would be foolish, though. And I don’t have to like you to do my job." He stares both Starscream and Megatron down, though the seeker just laughs. No matter how this plays out, he certainly has had a good time tonight.

 

"Of course, you'd agree to his demands," Starscream mutters under his breath once Megatron finally retracts his statement. He stomps away to seek out Breakdown to finally return the stolen goods.

 

fearlessly, Ratchet turns his back to them and approaches Soundwave's limp form; "I'll take him back to the med-tent. He needs a transfusion, never mind all the other work..."

 

Megatron curl his lip plates in a snarl at the medic’s insulting tone and must forcefully retrain himself from killing him right there. He reminds himself that he probably is the only one capable of repairing Soundwave and that they need Soundwave alive. But he is sorely tempted… And doesn’t hold back by lashing out verbally.

 

“You cityling thinks that you know everything that there is to know about us and our ways. You pampered City dwellers knows nothing about the hardships of living in the wilderness of Cybertron!” He takes a deep invent to calm himself and let a bit of the rage disperse. “What Thundercracker tried to do is not the norm. He tried to rush things, and that isn’t the way to go, but you wouldn’t know and would rather make unfounded accusations!”

 

There a tense moment of silence between the two and Megatron finally growl and rub and bridge of his nose plate. He looks worn and very tired right then, also terribly annoyed. When he speaks again finally, his voice is calmer and more even.

 

“You need to be thoroughly thought about our way of life. Soundwave can do this, but until he is back on his feet, a tutor will see to your education. Shockwave will take care of it!”

 

After that, he leaves and let Soundwave be transported to the med tent to be healed.

 

 

It is several hours until Soundwave starts to regain consciousness, and he feels sore and weak. Remembering what had happened the previous day, he sighs and wonder why in the Pit he did something so stupid? His optics are unfocussed and he can’t seem to fully bring them back online. All he can see around him are blurry forms with no specific shapes.

 

One white and red form is closer and speaks in a tone that suggests annoyance and anger. Of course, … The medic would be angry and annoyed. Is he at least grateful for what he did for him? A weight on his chest have him look there and meet and concerned yellow Optics of Ravage. And its apparently at her that Ratchet is raging, because she has decided to curl up on his chestplates. Laserbeak is not in sight but he can feel her close too…

 

"It’s hard not to make assumptions, when you all laughed at the fact I'd harmed Thundercacker, rather than reprimanding him for--"

 

But before Ratchet can say more, Starscream comes back from speaking with Breakdown to step between the two arguing mechs; it’s certainly a cold day in the Pit when HE has to be the voice of reason! "I think this is a conversation better suited to when tensions are not so high," Starscream says sharply. Despite the medic's obvious anger, Starscream is shrewd enough to sense the others distress. Since Ratchet had not spoken about Thundercracker's treatment of him, the rest of the tribe had made assumptions about his behavior-- but Starscream can see how shaken and /afraid/ the medic is when speaking of his brother and the seeker has a feeling he will need to have a talk with his brother later.

 

But for now, he presses along his bond with Megatron, trying to impress upon the other his suspicions. ~You even said yourself the city mechs don’t understand us and our ways. Knockout showed him around the tribe and explained the different available jobs, but not much about our culture. If Ratchet truly does believe Thundercracker tried forcing himself on him, those weren't playful or coy damages on TC, and I can’t blame him for wanting to leave~ he explains over their bond. Out loud he says, "And while Shockwave is smart he’s not well suited for such an emotional conversation. As the leaders of our tribe...until Soundwave is better, perhaps you ought to come to us and we can discuss your perceptions together," is given diplomatically.

 

He nudges Megatron then, and together the two of them leave.

 

Ratchet spends a significant portion of the night tending to Soundwave's wounds. Breakdown remains with him, keeping an optic on him to ensure he won’t try to sabotage the others repairs or run away again. He sends his mate a message letting him know he will not be home that night.

 

Eventually, after spending hours working on him, Ratchet falls into recharge. When he wakes Breakdown is gone, but in his place, is the black cyberpanther-- "That frag are you doing in here?" he yelps, startled, then quickly stands straight--wincing at the pain in his back from recharging in a chair. And the pain in his arm, from working so long and hard last night, despite the damages to his frame. "Scat, cat! I don’t need you crowding him," he growls as he approaches the berth to shoo Ravage off. Of course, the high-tech sensors alert him before he’s even take a step closer that Soundwave is online, if barely awake. "...So, you return to the land of the living, then. Good. Almost lost you last night," he gruff. Not mentioning his own fatigue is partly from transfusing part of his own energon into the other.

 

Ravage merely flattens her ears on her head and hiss, lashing her tail in an angry manner. She was sticking to her master’s side no matter what, and it wouldn’t be a stupid Cityling that would make her leave! She stubbornly dug her claws into the berth and curled closer to Soundwave, emitting a threatening low growl from her vocalizer. Her voice sounded in his head then and she had a angry, worried tone. Her voice was definitely female and smooth as silk.

 

‘I’m staying! It’s your fault that he’s wounded and I won’t leave him alone with you Cityling!’ To prove her point she draped herself over her Master’s side, careful of his wounds, and gave the medic a hard, stubborn look. ‘He didn’t have to do that! You owe him!’

 

Knockout chose that moment to enter and looked between the two with a small smirk. He crossed his arms over his chest and made his way towards the Autobot and his patient. He quickly examined his work and was truly impressed by it, Ratchet really was a skilled medic. Despite all that happened, Knockout still wanted to learn more from him.

 

“I wouldn’t try to chase her away. Ravage is very protective and motherly. She wouldn’t leave his side even if you threatened her with pain and torture.” He said with a calm, even tone that hid a tiny bit of amusement. “Besides, he would feel better if his symbionts are close by his side. It’s the bond they share, it helps with the recovery, usually.”

 

Soundwave was now more awake and turn his head to Ratchet. He just realized he was face down on the berth and that his back was covered in meshmetal bandages, and hurt like the pit. He tried to sit up but the agony that coursed through his back and limbs quickly made him reconsider, and he let himself fall back down, just turning his head. He was feeling awful, and he instinctively reached out to feel his symbionts. Ravage was by his side, and Laserbeak was somewhere in the tent, probably perched on a beam. Immediately it made him relax and he looked at the medic.

 

“You have my thanks…” He rasped in a rough, gritty voice. “Soundwave: …Grateful.”

 

Ratchet's optics narrow in turn and he pinches the bridge of his nose. He's tired and not in the mood to deal with the petulant creature. "You're right, he /didn’t/ have to do that. I don't owe anyone in this blasted camp a damned thing," he growls. "Especially since--" He stops himself short when he hears the tent rustle, biting his glossa from saying anything too scathing where Knockout could hear.

 

Ratchet tosses his good arm in the air, the other now cradled in a sling. It had split and bled last night, from working on Soundwave. "Whatever. So long as she doesn't jostle him or touch him too much, I don't care. Otherwise it'll be very easy to undo all my hard work," he grouches, tone a bit harsher and more dismissive than was normal. Typically, he would have argued harder against her presence, but what he said was true; he really didn't care at this point. Too bitter and full of resentment for this place and the people in it to think in a clear, calm manner.

 

The sound of Soundwave's voice made Ratchet turn his helm to look at the other though his body remained twisted away. "...You're the one that took the beating for me. What else would I have done?" He snorts and looks away, lips pursed. "Why'd you do that anyway? You dont know me..." he asks, repeating what others had said last night as well. It still bothered him that Soundwave had never answered. He dares not make any accusations yet, though, despite his personal fears.

 

Soundwave was silent for a long moment, one may think he had fallen back into recharge but he was merely going over Ratchet’s question. Indeed, why did he do that? He didn’t have to, and yet he threw himself in front of the medic, and took the punishment intended for him, on himself… Looking inside himself, he couldn’t find any reasonable answer to that question. It had been purely instinctive, and a move from his spark rather than his processor.

 

But why? Ratchet was not a friend, nor was he family… He made his spark flutter in strange ways, but he still had to examine those reactions to determine what they were… But his spark had been the one to react that strongly and to push his processor into making that decision. So, he answered honestly, looking at the medic at best he could.

 

“Soundwave: …Uncertain. Reason is unknown, spark reacted, not processor.” He paused, hating to sound so confused and unclear, but sadly there was no clearer way to put it. “Ratchet: owes Soundwave nothing. Ratchet: free to refuse Guardianship if so desired. Unwise, though… You need guidance…”

 

Ravage hissed at him again and grumbled before carefully curling on her master’s side, avoiding his wounds. Soundwave felt reassured by her presence and after he fell silent, he used a feeler to lazily pet her and hug her closer. Knockout had listened to it and looked a bit confused and frowned. He sighed, and shook his head, understanding that they had all made a huge mistake here. Ratchet knew, basically, nothing about their society and culture, and yet was expected to act like any one of them, which was, well, ridiculous. How did they all expect him to follow their rules and knows how to conduct himself properly?

 

He stepped closer to ratchet, but not too close, and said.

 

“Ratchet? I think there had been a terrible misunderstanding between us all here. First thing that should have been done is explain to you what is expected of a member of this tribe and what courting entails. I suspect that there is more to what Thundercracker did, or tried to do, then what you are saying…” He paused and sighed, shaking his head and looking at the older mech seriously. “First thing, rape is not and never will be condoned. Roughness is okay, but consent is needed for any interface to be engaged, by both parties involved. And courting DOES NOT involve any kind of rape!”

 

"So, you didn't do it to-" Once more he bites his glossa, forces himself to keep his worst thoughts to himself. His tone is accusatory and he doesn’t want to start another fight or worse- have Soundwave get punished for him again. The other really couldn’t handle even a gentle flick right now never mind something as spiteful as whatever torture these mechs would inflict for such a slight.

 

Instead he changes tact and move closer to Soundwave so it would be easier for the other to see him. For them to see each other, really. Soundwave's visor made it impossible to gauge his reactions, but maybe he would have some other tell if he was lying. "Megatron said as my guardian, I'd have to live with you," he speaks calmly and neutrally. A stark contrast to his previous outright hostility. "Does this mean I have to let you court me or...or offer something back to you?" The neutrality slipping at the last sentence; his previous anxiety making itself known despite his best effort to keep it hidden.

 

When Knockout speaks up, though, Ratchet whirl on him, optics blazing with the same venom directed at Megatron last night. "I've made no secret what Thundercracker tried to do! I told you he tried to force me. Or is your concept of shoving a mech against a wall and digging into their paneling different than mine?!" He pants; just recalling that harrowing moment has his armor ruffled and optics bright with lingering fear and revulsion.

 

He steps back away from all the mechs in the room, not wanting any of them near him. "And when we came to the pavilion you all said-- what’s a quick claiming if not forcing someone?! You just laughed at Thundercracker's damage, didn’t act like it was any problem at all!"

 

Ratchet covers his face with his servos, shoulders shaking. "If I didn’t have my blade he'd have forced my panel open. He only backed off because I cut him"

 

Knockout didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t try to get any closer to the upset medic, and his optics showed only sadness, resignation and anger, but the last not directed at him. He also looked concerned and lifted a hand briefly in Ratchet’s direction before sighing and letting it drop to his side once more. What could they do? At this point, only action would prove their honesty and the medic wont trust anything out of any of their mouths, despite what Soundwave did for him.

 

Besides, they really couldn’t blame him for trying to flee. The first impression he had of them was very bad, and tainted by the rash, evil act of one crazy seeker. He wanted to reassure the medic and tell him to trust him, but that would be futile at that point. So, he settled on saying, softly.

 

“I have seen your work, Ratchet. I… want to learn more from you. I’m not as skilled a medic as you are… And I’m sorry that all our actions that day probably negated all try to earn your trust but for what it’s worth… I’m sorry, and I’m grateful that you saved Track’s life.” He smiled a bit and shrugged, not trying to come any closer but showing no sign of aggression or anger towards their unwilling guest. “We handled this very badly… Would you consider the possibility of letting us show you that we are not all that bad?”

 

On the medberth, Soundwave had been listening to this and realized there was one important question that the medic asked that he never answered. Ratchet had asked if the Guardianship meant he would be free to court him, and it was important that he cleared the air on that point. Maybe it would calm the medic down a little… Soundwave said, softly, trying to keep his gaze on the medic despite the difficulty the positions he was in made it.

 

“Soudwave’s role as Guardian: teacher and protector. No other pursuit would be intended.” He was still in pain but still tried to sit up and meet ratchet’s gaze, if he could. He groaned a bit, but managed to move enough to turn fully towards him, ignoring the stinging agony through his back. “I solemnly swear it.”

 

Ratchet takes a deep invent, the medic not responding for several moments as he needs to take the time to just settle down from the emotional whiplash this morning has been. Breakdown let him have some energon last night after he conducted the transfusion for Soundwave, but since then he hasn’t eaten anything. So, waking up and having to deal with confronting all these terrible emotions?

 

He moves again, further away-- but this time it’s just so he can take a seat on one of the other medberths, suddenly feeling very tired and drained even though the day has just begun.

 

"I don’t know," he admits to Knockout. "I don’t trust you. Any of you." And he has no reason to. It was just like Knockout feared: nothing they said would alleviate his pain or anger. So, he wasn’t sure what Knockout had in mind, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he'd be okay with them if they just started acting nice to him, or whatever. He sighs again, and offlines his optics; "I mean...I can’t, I /wont/ just put that aside. Never mind the fact that-- what if I had a mate? Bitlets of my own?" He looks to Knockout again, mouth pulled into a frown. "I don’t, but, Thundercracker had no way to know that. And what? What would have happened then?"

 

"I've still had to leave everyone I know and care about behind and I'm supposed to pretend like I’m okay with that?"

 

"You want me to teach you, well fine. What other choice do I have? But I’m not going to pretend to be happy here."

 

He finally stands again, but this time it’s to oh-so-very gently press Soundwave's shoulder down, to encourage the mech to lay on his front again. "And stop moving so much. You'll split your back open again. If you want to be in proper shape to move out at the end of the week with the tribe, you're going to have to lay there like a good patient for the rest of the time. And even then, you're likely going to have to be carried in a transport or something when its time to leave," he gruff. And for the guardian thing he...didn’t bother touching that subject beyond a nod of acceptance. Did he trust that? He wasn’t sure. But Soundwave wasn’t as big as Thundercracker; he felt more confident he could fight the other off if it came to it.

 

 

"Knockout!" Starscream's shrill, easily identifiable voice screeched as the mech suddenly threw back the curtain to the medtents entrance. "I thought I told you to fetch the medic for me. What is taking so long?" He growls. Though despite his irate tone the red sports model would no doubt be glad to see their tribe leader. Starscream's entrance saved him from having to respond to Ratchet's less than enthusiastic response to teach him.

 

Starscream looks at the scene before him and lowers his rigid wings just slightly. "Is Soundwave in need of attention?" He asks brusquely.

 

Though Ratchet just looks a bit bewildered that the seeker wants to see him, and yet another pit begins to form in his tanks. What did they want now? To find some way to punish him anyway for last night? Did Megatron want revenge for what happened to Soundwave. The older mech looks dubious, but shakes his helm anyway; "No. Soundwave will be fine. Provided he stops moving so much--"

 

"Good," Starscream snaps, not interested in hearing much else. "Then you're coming with me. Megatron and I wish to speak with you." Then he turns on a heel and marches right back out the medtent. Ratchet blinks as he stares after him. He casts Knockout a bewildered look but the shouted, "NOW!" From outside has him scurrying along so as not to make these mechs hate him even more After all, this was home now. Much as the idea appalled him.

 

This time they weren’t going to the public meeting tent though; that was, well, too public for this conversation. Instead Starscream led the medic to his and Megatron's own personal tent.

 

*****

***             ***

 

The sight that greeted them when they reached the tent was… sparkwarming to say the least. Megatron was holding a fussing Sunstorm to his chest and rocking the sparkling back and forth, humming softly to try and soothe the upset bitlet. When he heard them enter, he turned his head to look and had a small nod for his mate, then a sharp, scrutinizing look for the medic. He spoke to his mate first, his tone a bit gruff but worm, oddly enough.

 

“He woke up hungry while you were gone. I kept him distracted. He would need feeding.” He said simply and offered their newly born sparkling back to his carrier.

 

When Starscream had taken the bitlet from him, he turned to face Ratchet fully, and cocked his head curiously. He said softly, none of the anger from the night before present in his tone.

 

“I understand that there has been a serious misunderstanding on our part concerning what had transpired with Thundercracker the day of your arrival here.” He started, his voice calm and diplomatic. He had clasped his hands behind his back and looked like the leader he was supposed to be. “We have asked you to come here to have your account of the events as they occurred that day, from your perspective. In the hope that we can clear that misunderstanding and take action against the perpetrator if necessary.”

 

Starscream and Megatron certainly had their difference, especially what with Starscream's rather jealous and possessive nature. But bumping helms wasn’t the same as hate and they co-ruled rather effectively despite bumping helms and sniping at each other all the time. So, when the two of them entered--Ratchet a few steps behind and dragging his pedes-- Starscream smiled and went up to his mate and bitlet without hesitation. "Of course," he responds. "I will let you handle this, then."

 

Not that Starscream goes very far. As the tribe’s leaders, they had a nicer set up than others, but all that really meant was their space was larger, and they had a beautifully woven blanket hung from the ceiling that separated the tent in half; no doubt separating their private sleeping area from the main entrance. But Starscream just takes a seat on a stool set up near the divider and pops open his cockpit, settling Sunstorm in the plush cabin seating--which was conveniently where his feeding lines were located, giving his sparkling a comfortable place to rest while he fed.

 

It was all so...surreal. Ratchet stared at Megatron, armor slicked flat against his frame in a defensive manner: the more tightly pressed to one’s frame their armor was, the less movement they had but it also protected vulnerable seams and cabling better. And yet, it all feels like a dream. The...care the two of them had. As if they were worried about his wellbeing. It was a complete 180 from before.

 

Ratchet's gaze flicks back towards the entrance, which had fluttered close behind him, then to Megatron once more.

"I--" did he really have to recall this once more? It’s easier to say when not looking at the big, looming mech so he cuts his gaze to Starscream instead. "I woke up disoriented. And when I asked where I was or where my friends were, he wouldn’t answer me. Skywarp came in and mentioned the meeting and Thundercracker said he hadn’t claimed me yet," he vents, "when Skywarp left I told him I wasn't....wasn’t interested in that," actually he recalled threatening to rip the others spike off if he put it anywhere near him, but the point was the same, "and he grabbed my throat and forced me against the wall a-and said he wouldn't let anyone else steal me away so I'd better submit or--" He vents again, and this time crosses his arms over his chest. He can feel the earlier shame and anger creep up on him, just like it had when telling Knockout. He didn’t like or want to talk about this, but, "and then he tried prying my manual release open. That’s when I cut him."

 

Ratchet sets his jaw and finally looks back at Megatron. "Okay?" His voice soft, but terse, belying his discomfort

 

"And he didn’t explain to you about courtship?" Starscream speaks up, wanting to clarify. This is, after all, his brother though if what Ratchet says is true he will have to be punished no matter what--

 

"No! I... still don’t understand any of that. He made it seem like he had to...to take me right then and there. But then at the tent he mentioned having a Lunar Cycle? But-- you also made it seem like he should have claimed me then and there too--" Ratchet vents, frustrated and confused. "I thought," he casts another look at Megatron though and shrinks away, not finishing that sentence. But it was obvious from their fight last night what he thought: that they picked mates by forcing themselves on each other. That the strongest or most sly would pick whoever they wanted or something. "I don’t know what to think?"

 

Megatron listen to him without interruption, still standing with his arms crossed behind his back, though as he speaks his expression becomes stormier. He seems angry, but not at Ratchet. When the medic finishes, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his noseplates. Then he meets the medic’s optics and slowly, he shakes his helm and start talking. It is obvious that they had all overlooked a very important factor contributing to the misunderstanding and letting it fester, even encouraging the medic’s beliefs that what Thundercracker did was a normal way of acting for them. Which it was not, and it made the larger mech angry to think that one of his Tribesmechy had acted in such a dishonorable way.

 

What they had all overlooked was that Ratchet was NOT one of them and thus, doesn’t know about their customs, rules and culture. And so, he takes it upon himself, as one of the leaders of the tribe, to speaks on behalf of his whole people when he finally addresses the medic.

 

 “What happened was not, and I insist on it, NOT acceptable in any way. What Thundercracker did amounted to attempted rape, and we do not accept this kind of behavior anymore then you Citylings obviously don’t. He should not have tried to force himself on you once you refused his initial advanced, should have EXPLAINED what was going on to you BEFORE engaging in ANY FORM of courtship initiation, and more importantly, he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew what was going on from the start. On all those accounts, he will be severely punished, I can assure you.”

 

He pauses and his optics wanders to his mate and sparkling calmly sitting close by, and it calm him a little. He is thinking of letting Starscream decides on an appropriate punishment for his brother and administer it. He could feel through their bond that his mate is pissed off and seeting, but hides it well, for the sake of peace and their feeding bitlet.

 

‘It’s obvious that Thundercracker needs to be punished quite severely. I can trust you to handle this? I will of course back you up.’ He sends his mate through their bond, before returning to his explanation to the Autobot, whom was still waiting on some sort of explanations. ‘And make sure to make an example out of it. This cant become acceptable behavior.’

 

“Now, as for the reason behind the misunderstanding, when you were presented in the tent, I have to admit that we were misled by the way Thundercracker made things sounds at this point. You must know that, in our culture, ritual kidnapping of a mate is perfectly acceptable between opposing tribes. However, both the kidnapper and the ‘victim’ are consenting and willing in this case. It had been a previously agreed upon agreement, usually to settle peace between tribes or strengthens an alliance.” He pauses and let his words sink, observing the medic’s reaction. When he continues his voice his soft and apologetic. “We did not take into consideration, or rather overlooked, unforgivably, that you are NOT from our kind. You are a Cityling, and therefore knows nothing of our ways. You could not have known and therefore could not have agreed to anything.”

 

He fell silent after that, and his optics were softer and kinder then he had ever seen them so far. There was far more to Megatron, and to these mechs, then you could see on the surface.

 

By the time Megatron finishes speaking, Ratchet's shaking, the medic unsure if he could possibly believe his audios. There were still things he didn't understand, that still didn't line up--

 

"Of course," Starscream says, voice quiet so as not to upset his sparkling (as well as an attempt to reign in his anger), "we've all grown up with the concept of possibly being kidnapped. Tribes need to be small out here or risk stretching resources thin. This means we compete with other tribes too. But...at the same time, we must combat the potential of inbreeding.

 

So, with this knowledge. And when it happens to a tribesmemebr, of course we're upset they're gone, but...it’s still expected. And because we expect it, some mechs give in right away. That’s a quick claiming," since Starscream had picked up on the fact that Ratchet had been focused on that one detail. "We just thought...we just thought you were being rough with /him/, not the other way around. Some captured mechs can be a little petulant, or embarrassed at being caught."

 

~And oh, I'll think of something~ Starscream sends over their bond. Whipping him would be only too kind. 40 lashes for stealing energon was what Soundwave got. Thundercracker would need something worse. Anything short of actual death or banishment. Or, well...He supposes they could send him to another tribe. He would hate to see him go, but-

 

"And..." Ratchet finally speaks up, seeming to churn this new information in his mind, "if the botnapped mech doesn’t agree right away, they get courted?" He finally asks. When Starscream nods, Ratchet lifts a servo to his mouth in thought. Then he looks up to Megatron again, expression quizzical. "You also said that if he and I hadn’t interfaced though, that meant other bots could challenge him for me. I had interpreted that to be mean I was a... slave. Or something. A possession to be fought over. Um, if that’s not the case then what would such a challenge have entailed? He seemed pretty convinced someone would 'steal' me away?" Ratchet had calmed down considerably, as his earlier fear of being punished or confronted for his behavior towards Thundecracker was apparently wrong. He would not get over being kidnapped so quickly, but all the tension and fear he'd been hiding and living with for the past several days was finally beginning to ease.

 

Megatron shook his head at his last statement, and said in a tone that was both soft and sharp, meaning the seriousness of his words. “That is not the case. You are not s slave, you have a right to sya no and to refuse any mech trying to court you. That is in fact what the one Lunar Cycle limit means. It’s the period that the kidnapper must convince the kidnapped bot to accept his courting. If he doesn’t then the kidnapper has no choice but to step back and let another try, if they so wish.”

 

He gave Starscream a grateful look at his words and didn’t let his anger bubble to the surface in the face of what Thundercracker did. The mech would be harshly punished, he trusted Starscream to come up with something both creative and humiliating. His mate was pissed at his brother and he could understand why. Thundercracker was in for a world of trouble, and he would gladly lend a servo in the process. He returned his attention to Ratchet and continued with a half-smile.

 

“If Thundercracker had followed the rule, he would have had no choice but to accept your refusal and try the slow, long way instead. Courtship is a very intricate and complicated process and it shouldn’t be rushed. Besides, you have all rights to tell any bot to frag off if you’re not interested. We’re not monsters. No means no here as much as anywhere else.” He has a small chuckle and then and shakes his head, giving his mate a wicked, playful look. “You have no idea how hard Starscream made me work to get him to accept my courtship… It took almost a whole Solar Cycle.”

 

His tone was warm and held a lot of fondness for the lithe seeker and he was truly open and had shed his mask of leadership in that moment. His optics slid to rest on Sunstorm and softened a bit more. These two were his whole life now. More so even then the Tribe… but to keep them safe he had to keep a strong and firm hand on the Tribe he commended. Staying in command meant they stayed safe.

 

It still seems rather convoluted to him in all honesty, but at least Ratchet has a better understanding of how things were supposed to be. And even though his experience with Thundercracker had been frightening it was still a relief to know that his actions really weren't the norm. He still had some lingering questions, such as what sort of rituals did courting entail (didn’t want to accidentally encourage some bot with the wrong action or words), but he had many things to think on now. Besides, he could ask Knockout or Soundwave later; while he appreciated Starscream and Megatron speaking to him, they were a bit intimidating to talk to so candidly.

 

Starscream laughs at his mate; "As I said, captured mates aren't always...docile. I was willing to entertain Megatron as a mate, but he had to prove himself first. That is one of the points of the kidnapping as well. To prove how strong or sly a bot is, to show they can protect a mate and offspring," he explains. Just then, Sunstorm finishes suckling, and Starscream lifts him from the feeding line to a shoulder to burp him. He doesn’t bother with the line for now, letting it remain out until he can finish tending to Sunstorm.

 

Ratchet nods and finally says, "I... know trying to run was foolish. It’s not as if I would have survived, anyway, and if I had the cities would not allow me back inside. I was just...bitter, angry. Still am, a little. I know I cannot run away again, but could I at least...write a letter, to my friends and family? If we're close enough to where I was attacked, it could be delivered?" He asks, hopefully. "Let them know I’m not dead..."

 

Starscream sighs and shifts his hold on Sunstorm, cradling the bitlet in one arm while the other adjusted his feeding tube and cockpit; "It would be a bit out of the way for when we are ready to move. And how can we trust you won’t ask them to let your return, if you were to deliver it? Primus knows they wouldn’t even let us near the gates--"

 

"If you agreed you could read the note first. And... Laserbeak could come with me. Like I said, I'd just want to drop it off at the city gates and hope they would give it to my loved ones. I don’t have any creations, or a mate, at the least, but still--"

Megatron lift a hand to make him shut up, but not unkindly. He had heard enough. If they were to prove to the mech that he could trust them, then this one request was one they shouldn’t disregard completely. Though he knew they couldn’t let the medic go alone, there were too many risks or them and the Tribe, there might be a solution to this problem. He looked at his mate and spoke to him through the bond.

 

‘I think that we should agree to this one request. A show of trust, if you will. Maybe if he realizes by himself that they’ll never take him back, then he wouldn’t fight us and try to leave at every turn? A solution to this might be to send him with a small escort of two or three.’ He says, looking thoughtful and locking optics with his bonded mate. ‘Laserbeak, plus ravage and one other? What do you think? I let you choose one that would go. I know it would have us deviate considerably from our path when we leave, but it has its benefits, and the drawback wouldn’t be that big either.’

 

To Ratchet, he answers in a questioning and probing tone. The Autobot hadn.t done anything to make himself even try to acclimate to this new lifestyle and he was… wary of trusting him, just as well as Ratchet was of trusting them.

 

“This a big request on your part, Autobot. It would make us deviate considerably from our prepared path, since Iacon is in the opposite direction to where we are going. As Starscream has said, the Citylings are very wary and afraid of us wanderers. They may shoot on sight before even recognizing you. Are you ready to take that risk for a chance of closure with your previous life?”

 

~Laserbeak , as  she can fly back to the main group should something go wrong faster than any other could make it to us. Im not sure about Ravage only because Soundwave should keep one symbiote close with his...ill health. I would suggest Barricade and perhaps even one of the coneheads. Primus knows my seekers will need a way to prove themselves after we deal with Thundercracker~ Starscream groans over the bond.

 

As for Ratchet, the medic responds immediately, "Yes. If I /did/ have a mate, or offspring, would this even be a question? I would go and ask them to join me. As it is, though, I do have a brother, who has a mate. I want him to know its all right for him to take my things and use them for his own family. I'd rather he get it than for Iacon officials to take it back," he vents. "And I dont think they'd shoot immediately," he adds, and gently touches along his paint scheme; the red and white contrast wasnt exclusive to medics, but was iconic enough to give any bot pause.

 

Finally, Starscream gives voice to his mate’s idea; ".... Very well. We'll come up with an escort for you, but you may write your letter. For now, however, we're going to call a tribe meeting to meet out Thundercracker's punishment. I do believe I've come up with a satisfactory punishment for his behavior."

 

The older mech looks surprised, but Starscream doesn’t elaborate other than, "You will see along with the others. We meant it, that this would not be tolerated. We reacted badly towards you and only time will heal that. But we can take steps to prove to you we are sincere."

 

"I... I’m going to go check on Soundwave," he finally settles on, unable to think of anything else to say. Without waiting to be dismissed, Ratchet ducks out of the tent, having memorized the layout of the village the day before when Knockout showed him around. Starscream lets him go; after all, he is a tribesmember now. His movement need not be restricted and even if others are angry with him for his actions last night they would know better than to lash out given his guardianship.

 

Starscream stands and holds a burbling Sunstorm to his chest; "If you want to gather the others for the public pronouncement of his punishment, I’ll go and fetch Thundercracker."

 

-TBC-


End file.
